


Robbie Remembered

by AnnGry



Series: You Wanted Me to Remind You to Remember to Remind Yourself to Remember Something [2]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Bromance, Forgive and forget, Frenemies, Friendly Fire, Friendship, Memory, Remember, forget, friendly courtship, implying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 34,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnGry/pseuds/AnnGry
Summary: After the events of "Robbie Forgotten," Sportacus keeps true to his word and visits Robbie every day in an attempt to repair their friendship. With the rest of the town still at odds with the villain, however, could befriending Robbie be more trouble than Sportacus can handle?





	1. 1: Commitment

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The TV series "LazyTown" was created Magnús Scheving and is owned by Turner Broadcasting System. This work of fanfiction is solely for entertainment purposes. I do not own the characters depicted in this story, nor do I gain any profit from using them.

The roaring wind filled Sportacus' ears as he flew down to LazyTown on his skutla. He couldn't hear the ringing alarm from his crystal but could still sense it flashing on his chest and so he pedaled all the harder to answer the call. A spot of yellow among the green trees guided his rapid descent. Someone was in trouble.

Stingy dangled by the tips of his fingers from the highest branch. He squirmed and kicked so much that one of his loafers came off and tumbled to the ground. The rest of the kids scattered around the base of the tree to avoid the falling hazard.

"Somebody help," Stingy cried.

"Watch it, you almost beaned me with that thing!" Trixie shouted.

"Hang on, Stingy," Stephanie called up to the boy.

"Look!" Ziggy pointed upwards, not at Stingy but beyond him. Hurtling through the sky came Sportacus, a blue bullet scattering the white clouds in his wake.

Stingy couldn't hang on any longer. His fingers slipped free of the branch and he dropped out of the tree like an overripe apple. The children screamed up at him while he screamed down.

Swooping in on the whistling wind Sportacus caught Stingy halfway to the ground. He steered the skutla on a wide arc around the tree and coasted to a landing. The kids ran after him cheering.

Sportacus set Stingy down and the fancy boy wobbled on his feet. "Everyone okay?" Sportacus asked, looking around at all the nodding heads. "Good. You shouldn't climb up in trees so high."

"That tree ate my kite," Stingy said, sniffing sharply through his nose. He jabbed a finger up at the canopy. "It's still up there now, I couldn't reach it."

"But you can get it down, Sportacus," Ziggy said.

"Yeah, it'll be no problem for you," Trixie said.

"Actually," Sportacus said, "I've got to be going."

The kids all looked at Sportacus. "Go where?" Stephanie asked. "You just got here."

"Yeah, why don't you stay and play with us for a while?" Ziggy asked.

Sportacus rubbed the back of his neck and offered a sheepish grin. "I would, but I'm already running late." He pumped his arms in his signature move and ducked down into a somersault before the kids could ask any more questions. "See you later!"

The kids watched Sportacus leave, then turned to each other.

"Sportacus can run late?" Ziggy asked.


	2. 1:2

Sportacus didn't stop running until he was halfway across town. He cartwheeled around the next corner and jumped onto the stone wall to check behind him for anyone who might be following. None of the kids appeared to be on his trail. Hopping down Sportacus resumed his trek at the more leisurely pace of a jog.

At the edge of town he was reduced to a walk. When he reached the billboard, he stopped altogether. Sportacus stared at the two pieces of wood nailed across the center in a big X. They hadn't always been there. It wasn't until after the party when Robbie… put them there.

Robbie Rotten was LazyTown's self-proclaimed villain. That was, until he'd forgotten for a while. During that time the kids, Bessie Busybody, Mayor Meanswell, and even Sportacus had done everything they could to convince Robbie that he was someone else— someone friendly, and nice, and good. And it had worked, too. At least, until he remembered.

Sportacus took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before he walked around the structure. Lifting his chin and squaring his shoulders he climbed the metal staircase hidden in the back that led to the entrance of Robbie's lair.

His footsteps echoed off the metal grating as he reached the top. A miniature silo sat in the middle of the platform, its lid firmly shut. The blue suited man walked up to the big metal barrel and circled it a couple times. He flexed all the fingers on one hand before balling them into a fist and rapping his knuckles on the side of the chute.

"Hello!" Sportacus called in a clear, strong voice. "It's me again. Did you have a good morning?"

He waited, and the only response he got was the faint humming from a generator somewhere below and a chirruping bird passing overhead. The hatch remained closed.

"It's pretty windy out here," Sportacus said. "The kids were flying kites. Have you ever tried flying a kite? It's easy once you get it up in the air."

Robbie never answered when Sportacus called on him, not to invite him inside or even to acknowledge his presence. Truth be told, Robbie had told Sportacus in so many words to leave him alone after everything that had happened at that party. The man certainly didn't make it easy for Sportacus to see him, let alone talk to him. Even so Sportacus knew that Robbie could still hear him. He stuck a finger in his mouth and pulled it out with a _pop_ , holding it up to test the breeze. He nodded.

"I bet you could fly it over the billboard from here. Think how high it would go if you climbed up on it first!" He chuckled. "I'd even go up with you, if you promised not to take the ladder away this time."

Sportacus gazed at top of the billboard and watched the clouds drift by. The wind whispered through the supporting struts along the back. He shook his head and turned away, grinning.

"Well, maybe another time."

Sportacus left the silo alone and headed back for the stairs. He paused on the top landing and waved behind him.

"Have a good night. I'll make sure I'm on time tomorrow."


	3. 1:3

The billboard cast a long, dark shadow across the platform. Sportacus blew air out through his lips in a blustery sigh as he bounded up the steps and took cover in the shade.

"Boy, it sure is hot today!" He fanned himself as he walked across the grating and rested an arm on the cold surface of the silo. "It must be nice and cool down there, huh? I should be good up here anyway."

Sportacus leaned back against the disguised entrance to the lair. He drummed his fingers lightly across the rim, then hoisted himself up so that he was seated on top of the hatch. Bouncing his heels gently against the side of the chute he stayed there without another word.

Most days Sportacus would talk to himself for the full duration of his visit, having a one-sided conversation without hesitation. But on a day like today, just being there was enough. He knew that Robbie could still see him.

Without one of Sportacus' monologues the area around Robbie's lair was still and hushed. The kids rarely ever strayed this far out with their games and the faint sound of their play was easily overpowered by the thrum of the generator. Nobody passed by, and they wouldn't have been able to see Sportacus behind the billboard anyway. He was well and truly hidden.

It was no surprise none of the other townspeople ever tried to visit Robbie. For starters, none of them knew precisely where he lived. Whether they suspected the villain of dwelling somewhere underground, none of them had connected the billboard at the edge of town with the entrance to his lair. Sportacus had only discovered the secret with the guidance of his crystal. Even then if Sportacus were to tell them all where it was, it was doubtful any of them would want to visit. Robbie had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to entertain any visitors either.

Sportacus had no indication for when he overstayed his welcome or whether he had not stayed long enough. He followed some sort of internal clock that kept the lengths of his visits regular and constant, barring any outside interference. It was long enough to be more than a passing greeting, but short enough not to be overly missed by the other citizens in LazyTown.

Eventually Sportacus hopped down from the silo. Now that mental stopwatch told him it was time to go.

"I should see if the kids are drinking enough water, playing in the sun all day." He shielded his eyes as he stepped out from the shadow and into the glaring light. "We could all use a place like this."


	4. 1:4

"I was wondering," Sportacus said, "Whose house is that on the hill?"

Sportacus stood staring up at the large sign with his arms crossed and his head tilted to one side. He contemplated the scene depicted on the oversized canvas. The two pieces of plywood nailed across the front partially obstructed the winding brown trail that snaked up the center. The trail climbed a looming green hill where a mansion sat far in the distance. A dusky mountain range encircled it in the background and matched up almost perfectly with the mountain range that bordered the far reaches in real life.

"Whoever would live in a place like that must be important," Sportacus noted. "But there's no house or hill here. Your lair is the only place around, and it's deep underground. I don't suppose a house and a hill can both sink underground..."

In the billboard's foreground a large purple cow gazed back at Sportacus. He tilted his head to the other side.

"And what's with the cows? Is it an advertisement for milk? Milk is good for making strong bones. Although I'm not sure what kind of milk you'd get from a purple cow. It's strange to have all of this for a billboard." His eyes slid away from the cow to the edge of the billboard where he knew the metal staircase was hidden. "Did you paint all of this yourself?"

He only just caught sight of a blurry shape darting behind the metal framework. Sportacus stood still a second longer, staring at the empty space, before he lurched forward and strode towards the back to follow.

By the time he swung around the corner whatever he had seen was gone. Sportacus scanned the area, his gaze flicking between the shut silo and the shadowy space behind the billboard. There was nothing different about the silo, nobody lurking around the support struts or running across the grating.

His expression clouding with confusion Sportacus began to turn back towards the front. In the corner of his eye something small poked out from the opposite end of the platform. Something slender and made of metal, and bug-eyed at the top, staring after him.

A grin edged the corners of Sportacus' mouth. He ambled back to the front of the billboard, making a point not to look over his shoulder.

"It is a nice looking house in the picture. But it's awfully far away, all the way up on that hill. It would be a lot harder for me to come by if you lived somewhere like that. Even so..."

His meandering brought him to the center of the billboard. He wrapped his knuckles against the boards.

"If the point of it all is to keep people out, why is there a door here?"


	5. 1:5

Sportacus didn't have anything new to talk about. He didn't feel like sitting around either. As soon as he climbed the steps behind the billboard he went into a series of warm-up stretches. With his arms and legs limbered up he jogged in place, tapping out a metallic tattoo on the grating.

His stationary jog broke into a circuit around the silo. Sportacus made several laps around, picking up speed with each pass. With a running jump he vaulted over the top of the silo, tapping its lid with the tips of his fingers before landing on the other side in a crouch.

Chuckling he rose back up and shook out his limbs, looking around for the next stage of his impromptu routine. The supporting struts on the back of the billboard caught his eye. They were just the right height.

The steel beams creaked under Sportacus' energetic exercises. He performed pull-ups and chin-ups, dangled upside-down from his legs and performed a set of hanging sit-ups until the sweat got in his eyes. Sportacus climbed up the back of the silo to reach the cooling breeze at the top.

He paced the narrow ledge as though it was a balance beam. When he reached the other end he turned cleanly on his heel to make the return trip. Halfway across the athletic elf flipped into a cartwheel. The billboard shuddered and rumbled. He stuck the landing and held out his arms, waiting out the tremors under his feet.

"Will you knock it OFF up there?"

"Robbie?" Sportacus stammered and swayed, pinwheeling his arms. He teetered on the billboard and kicked out a leg in his attempt to turn towards the voice, nearly toppling himself off the edge. The metal frame shook and rang until he regained his footing.

Sportacus looked down in disbelief at the open hatch on the silo. Standing next to it, LazyTown's villain glared up at him. The tall, dark, and angry man had his arms crossed and one foot tapping a mad tempo on the platform.

"Are you trying to bring the roof down on my head?" Robbie Rotten snapped. "The sign is not some jungle gym for you to climb all over!"

Still the hero just stared. It had been so long since he'd last seen Robbie emerge from his lair. For all of his attempts, his countless visits and solitary speeches, nothing had ever succeeded in earning a response. Now the last vibrations faded from the billboard's frame and Sportacus had no idea what to do.

Robbie emitted a low, growling sigh. "Are you just going to _stay_ up there?"

That was invitation enough. Sportacus shook himself out of his stupor. He swung down from the ledge and descended the billboard in a series of hops and scrambles. The blue suited hero dropped down to the ground and landed on the platform with a resonant _gong_. Robbie jerked and stiffened at the noisy landing but held his ground otherwise, rooted to the spot as soundly as the silo beside him.

Sportacus straightened up and met Robbie's eyes. They stared at each other for several seconds. Sportacus cleared his throat and smiled while a nervous tic made his mustache twitch. He resisted the urge to wipe away the sweat slithering down his temples.

"Hi, Robbie. I was, ah… just doing some calisthenics. Would you care to join me?"

Robbie's eyes narrowed and the frowning line of his mouth deepened. "If you're done," he said, "I'll be getting back to my peace and quiet."

"Wait," Sportacus blurted out as Robbie turned towards the silo. The man glanced sidelong at him, one hand resting on the ladder. Sportacus gestured vaguely with his hands as he fumbled with the words in his mouth. "What's the hurry, why not stay out here for a while? I didn't know I was making so much noise. I'm sorry."

Robbie scanned him up and down with one eye and snorted. "All you ever do is make noise. What did you think you were doing, running around and jumping on metal sheeting?"

Sportacus could only shrug and offer up his hands in apology. Robbie almost grinned but it was more of a passing sneer as he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I suppose I have to make sure you don't break anything out here, Sporta-CRASH." He leaned against the silo with his arms still crossed, hooking one leg over the other to match. He leveled a challenging gaze at Sportacus. Sportacus' slack jaw snapped to attention in a wide smile.

"I'll be careful. I promise."


	6. 1:6

While wobbly and rickety, the billboard proved more sturdy than it let on. Sportacus made it a regular part of his work-up each day that he came over. For the latest addition to his tumbling routine he brought a floor mat to absorb some of the shock from all of his running and jumping.

Sportacus ran up and launched himself at the billboard, twisting to bring his legs over his head. He planted his feet against the support beams and sprung back with a powerful lunge that flipped him end over end. The explosive spin shook the billboard down to its foundation so that it shivered and twanged.

Robbie watched impassively from his place beside the silo. Every day that Sportacus used the exterior of the lair like a gymnast's uneven bars brought the villain out to spectate. The hero landed on his feet and turned to smile at his audience.

"It's amazing how much give the billboard has, it's as springy as a diving board. I don't have anything like it in the airship."

Robbie's face remained unchanged. "How long are you going to keep this up?" he asked.

"Well," Sportacus said, "With enough practice I think I'll be able to make two flips."

"Not that," Robbie said. He flicked one wrist, flapping his hand in a sharp switch. "This."

"What's this?" Sportacus asked.

"Coming here," Robbie said, "banging around my billboard like some kind of pinball every day. What's it going to take for this to stop?"

"Oh, that?" Sportacus chuckled. "You already know that, Robbie. I just want to be your friend."

Robbie's nose twitched and the corners of his mouth fidgeted before settling. A wrinkling in the corners of his eyes couldn't be suppressed so easily. He huffed and looked away. "It figures some hardheaded hero like you wouldn't get tired of this by now."

It was the most Robbie had said to Sportacus since the first time he came out to complain about the noise. Sportacus couldn't stop smiling.

Considering how Robbie had blocked out the rest of the town in the immediate aftermath of the party, he and the hero had not ended things on the worst terms possible. They weren't friends anymore, if they ever had been to begin with during Robbie's tenure as an amnesiac. But for Robbie to tolerate Sportacus' regular visits now, to even begin to return his attention…

"Does that mean it's working?" Sportacus asked, his toothy grin reaching from ear to ear.

"Why do you want this so much?" Robbie asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as though it pained him to ask.

"Why wouldn't I want to be your friend?" Sportacus asked. Robbie had regained control of the muscles in his face and hardened them into a uniform frown, lowering his hand.

"What was it you liked so much when you tricked me into being your friend?"

"I never wanted to trick you," Sportacus said, but Robbie only crossed his arms, blocking that avenue of discussion. Sportacus shifted his stance. "You can be a great friend, Robbie. You played with all of us and helped everyone with their problems. It was nice to see you acting so nice to everyone. I don't see why you can't do that again, and this time be yourself."

For every word Sportacus said Robbie's expression grew darker, his mouth pursing until it was a tense coil. It cut off any other words Sportacus could think to say so that he trailed off into silence. Robbie's eyes bore into Sportacus, not in an angry glare but something more sullen.

"Playing and being nice," Robbie said, "is what _you_ all are like, not me. You want me to 'be myself?' What do you think I've been doing all this time?"

"But you were nice," Sportacus insisted. "Didn't you have any fun playing with everyone? Didn't you feel good knowing how much you were helping everyone around town?"

"That's what this is about, then," Robbie said. "You want me to act like I never got my memory back."

"What? No!" Sportacus sputtered. Robbie cut him off.

"You want to know why pretending that we were friends even worked in the first place? Because I was only doing everything that you and those snotty little kids told me to do, nothing that _I_ ever wanted." He scoffed. "I doubt very much you'd want anything to do with me if you were to let me be me, _really_ me."

"I've always tried to be your friend, Robbie," Sportacus protested. Robbie brushed the claim aside with a wave.

"You've always tried to get me to go outside and move around, to eat all that sickening sportscandy, to be nice to everyone. When have you ever tried to do anything that _I_ like?"

Sportacus stood dumbfounded, for as much as he racked his brain he could find no response. Robbie grinned, a grim and joyless twist of the lips.

"You don't want to be friends with _me_. If none of you like what I do or who I am, why should I bother with any of you?"

The questions dropped like stones. Sportacus cleared his throat but could say nothing. He glanced away from the villain's cutting stare.

Robbie snorted. "That's what I thought." He held up his wrist as though to read a watch that wasn't there. "Well, look at the time. I believe you've caused enough ruckus around here for one day."

Sportacus glanced back to watch Robbie climb the small ladder attached to the silo. The gangly man's shoes clipped a smart note on each rung. The hatch on the other hand creaked and grated against Robbie's efforts to be opened.

The hero nodded to himself and took hold of the metal lid. With a single jerk he loosed the cover and swung it open for Robbie. Robbie held steady on the ladder and considered Sportacus for a moment. In the end he shrugged.

"Run along now, Sporta-chum. And keep running while you're at it."

"Okay, Robbie," Sportacus said. He rubbed at the peculiar grin ticking in the corners of his mouth and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Part 1... ;)


	7. 2: Compatibility

Sportacus returned to the billboard the next day at the same time he always did. Once he climbed the steps, however, he did not go through the normal paces of warm-up exercises, running around, or climbing on the back of the sign. Rather he walked at a stately pace over to the silo and knocked on the hatch. One, two, three polite raps were all it took for the lid to swing open.

Robbie's head popped out and swiveled around like his periscope, quickly locking onto Sportacus. He slung an arm over the rim of the chute.

"What's this?" Robbie asked. "You learned how to knock without using your feet?"

"Have a good morning, Robbie?" Sportacus returned the dubious greeting. Robbie grunted.

"Now that it's over, yes. I'm that much closer to the evening, and I'll get to go back to sleep."

"The days can fly by," Sportacus agreed. "It feels like there's not enough time in the day to see everyone and do everything even when I get up early."

"Who wants to do anything?" Robbie snorted. "The later I wake up, the less I have to do."

"Well, that's one way to look at it," Sportacus said, and smiled. "It's nice of you to take the time to come up and see me."

Robbie narrowed his eyes and tilted his head back, giving Sportacus a once over.

"What are you doing?" Robbie asked.

"What do you mean?" Sportacus asked.

"You're not going to do your flippety flopping?" Robbie asked, twirling one hand in pantomime.

"No," Sportacus said.

"So what _are_ you doing, then?"

"Talking to you," Sportacus said, still smiling.

Robbie's eyes squinted into dark slits. "What's this about?" he demanded.

"I thought about what you said yesterday," Sportacus said. "About how we tried to make you the kind of friend we all wanted, eating healthy and playing outside and helping with chores. It wasn't fair of us to expect you to do all those things, and we didn't do anything for you. Even when the kids tried to throw a party for you, I don't think you really wanted that either."

"True," Robbie said.

"It's only fair, then," Sportacus said, "that I should do the same for you."

A pause allowed the hero's words to sink in. Robbie continued to look at Sportacus, nonplused. "What?" he said.

"You've already shown what a good friend you can be, doing all the things everyone else likes to do," Sportacus said. "Now it's my turn, you know, to learn about you."

Robbie's expression held frozen on his face. He said nothing else. Sportacus clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

"So, what do you want to do today?"


	8. 2:2

Sportacus bounced lightly on the balls of his feet and shook out his hands. "We can do anything you like, Robbie," he said. "We could go for a walk, maybe pick some apples. It's your choice. What's it going to be?"

Robbie squinted one eye at Sportacus. "If those are the choices, I'd rather do nothing."

"Did you have something else in mind?" Sportacus asked.

The villain continued to scrutinize Sportacus with a narrow, probing look. "See if you can stand still for ten minutes without jumping around like some deranged blue kangaroo."

Sportacus' eyebrows rose, then smoothed. He settled back down flat on his feet and grinned. "Is that really what you want?" he asked.

"Have you got a stopwatch?" Robbie asked. Sportacus flipped open the cover on one of his arm guards to access the computer interface embedded within and pressed a few buttons. Robbie arched an eyebrow. "Why am I not surprised." Sportacus started the clock and dropped his hands to his sides, straightened his back, and locked eyes with Robbie.

Sportacus slowly curled and relaxed his fingers, trying to work out the tightness in his knuckles. He flexed his toes inside his boots to stave off a cramp and held in a chuckle that bubbled inside his chest. Robbie was always complaining before that Sportacus never held still for anything. Now he could finally put it to the test.

This felt familiar in a way. Hadn't they done something like this before, staring each other down in an impromptu standoff? Sportacus suddenly remembered. Play Day. The kids had been pretending to be cowboys when they were ambushed by the Rotten Kid. The outlaw was going to leave all the kids tied up when Sportacus came to see what the trouble was.

The corners of his mouth tickled and tightened, drawing up. Robbie's brow twitched and furrowed in response. The villain looked just as intent as he had on that day. He'd really gone all out, dressed up from the crown of a black Stetson all the way down to the spurs on his boots.

It had been hard even then for Sportacus to keep a straight face when their duel came down to tennis rackets and candy canes. But Robbie had been so convincing, so easy to play along with. Speaking in a different accent, fidgeting his fingers at his holster before he barked an enthusiastic "Draw!" To think, even Robbie Rotten liked to play on Play Day…

"All right, that's long enough," Robbie said. The man leaned back in the silo, almost sinking back down inside the metal chute. "You're creeping me out, Sporta-stare."

Sportacus refocused his gaze on Robbie and saw the man was fidgeting more than he was. He glanced down at the time still running in his arm guard. "Are you sure? It's only been a few minutes."

"Yes," Robbie said. "Just do some flips or something, you're giving me the willies."

"You mean like this?" Sportacus stepped back and crouched, then sprung into a back-flip. His shoes banged on the grating when he landed and Robbie winced as though the vibrations traveled all the way up the chute into his head.

"That's… better," Robbie muttered.


	9. 2:3

Robbie already had the silo hatch open when Sportacus came the next day. He remained mostly inside, only emerging from the chest up. Sportacus smiled to see that much of the villain prepared to greet him without having to knock.

"Hey, Robbie," Sportacus said. "What should we do today?"

Robbie tapped his fingers in a distracted rhythm on the rim of the chute, his head cocked just so as he looked at Sportacus. His mouth had a slant to it, not quite a frown, not quite a grin. Sportacus waited while the gears turned inside the other man's head. Something eventually clicked into place and a gleam lit Robbie's eyes, his mouth settling fully into a smirk.

"It's almost lunch time," Robbie said. "Why don't we have lunch together?"

"Really?" Sportacus' eyebrows rose and his smile broadened. "That would be great! I can get some sportscandy from my airship and—"

Robbie made a small gagging sound and shook his head. "I don't want any sportscandy."

"Oh," Sportacus said. "But if you don't want any fruits or vegetables, what can you have for lunch?"

"Well," Robbie said in a lofty tone, "there is one thing that I'd like."

"What is it?"

"Bring me some of Candy-Boy's sweets."

"Candy-Boy?" Sportacus furrowed his brow.

"You know," Robbie gestured vaguely, "the little sticky one with the round head."

"Ziggy?"

"Whatever." Robbie leaned over the rim of the silo to get closer to Sportacus. He spoke in a conspiratorial tone, "He's got more candy that he knows what to do with. But he would never give any of it to _me_. You, on the other hand..."

"I don't know," Sportacus said. "Is it a good idea to eat candy for lunch? It won't give you energy like an apple or a carrot would."

"Is that so?" Robbie gave Sportacus a cutting glare and leaned back. "You're going to lecture me about what I should eat, Sporta-spoon? I got enough of that from all of you when my memory was gone. But if you can't accept what _I want_ to eat, then I suppose this picnic is off."

"No-no-no," Sportacus waved his hands. He sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"Then you'll do it?" Robbie asked, his glare shifting back to a grin.

"I… guess I could see what Ziggy is up to," Sportacus said.

"I like chocolate," Robbie said. He flapped a hand in a lazy farewell. "I'll be waiting."

Sportacus nodded absently and turned away. His feet dragged against the grating as he forced one foot in front of the other. Robbie called after him in a cheerful tone.

"Taffy is fine too!"


	10. 2:4

Sportacus found Ziggy working in the community garden. The little boy stood in front of one of the garden boxes, engrossed in tending his plot. There was little produce to be seen in any of the boxes after what Robbie had done to the place during the party. The villain's rampage upon getting his memory back had reduced the town's entire harvest to compost.

The kids had been working hard, though, to regrow their fruits and vegetables. There were some shoots and buds to be seen, hints of green poking out of the soil. But it took time for seeds to grow, and everyone needed to eat. Fortunately Sportacus was able to supply the town with sportscandy from his airship while they recouped their crops.

Ziggy looked up as Sportacus jogged into the area. "Hey, Sportacus! Are you here to help with some of the gardening?"

"I—" Sportacus faltered but was quick to recover. "Sure, Ziggy, I'd be happy to help."

Sportacus trotted up to the wheelbarrow and maneuvered it around. Ziggy hummed a familiar tune, a couple words escaping under his breath. "Good stuff!" The hero found his steps keeping time with the song and he smiled as he brought the load to the boy's side.

"Look, Sportacus, there's some baby tomatoes already growing in my garden."

"That's great, Ziggy," Sportacus said, bending down to look. They were no bigger than grapes and still bright green but they hung tenaciously on the vine. It would be a while yet before anyone could eat them.

Ziggy resumed his chores while Sportacus stayed right where he was hunched over the garden box, staring at the tomato plant. The little boy looked back at the hero and giggled.

"They won't grow any faster if you watch them," Ziggy said. "Believe me, I've tried."

"Right," Sportacus said, forcing a chuckle. He straightened and spun away from the garden box. Ziggy paused in his gardening again, still watching.

"You're acting kind of funny," Ziggy said. "Do you need some sportscandy?"

Sportacus shot a furtive glance towards the child. "Not exactly," he said, and stopped. Ziggy waited for him to continue. "Hey, Ziggy," Sportacus settled on saying, "you don't have any candy on you, do you?"

"Candy?" Ziggy checked the front of his shirt and his sleeves, then tried to look over his shoulder, making himself turn a circle. "Do I have a lollipop stuck to my back again?"

"No," Sportacus said with a small laugh. He coughed. "I mean, do you have any candy I could have?"

" _You_ want candy?" Ziggy gawked. "But won't you have a sugar meltdown?"

"Well, it's… for a friend," Sportacus mumbled. Ziggy was too busy patting down his pockets to hear him. He pulled out a wad of unwrapped bubble gum from one pocket sporting a few lint balls. From the other he produced a bar of chocolate, still wrapped but somewhat misshapen from its cramped confines. "That's it!" Sportacus took the treat. "Thank you, Ziggy."

"You're welcome, I guess?" Ziggy scratched his head as he watched Sportacus carry the candy bar in an almost reverent fashion between both hands. The hero half jogged, half ran out of the garden before the boy could say another word.


	11. 2:5

Sportacus jumped the steps two at a time up to the platform behind the billboard, the impacts banging off the metal structure. Robbie, still hanging out inside the silo, let out a small scream at the booming racket and nearly fell down the chute. He hefted himself back up and peered out over the rim at Sportacus, his eyebrows jumping high on his forehead.

"You're back," Robbie said, reemerging the rest of the way.

"I got it," Sportacus declared. He offered the chocolate bar to Robbie. Robbie blinked down at the candy and back up at the hero's face.

"You did," he said, the surprise plain in his voice. He snickered. "I didn't think you'd actually do it." With a smirk he took the candy and unwrapped it. Sportacus watched him take a bite. The villain threw his head back and gave a gratuitous grumble of pleasure. "Just what I like, some ooey gooey chocolate." He held the candy out to Sportacus, still with a crooked grin on his face. "Want some?"

Sportacus chuckled. "No thanks," he said, "but you enjoy it."

"Oh, I do," Robbie said, polishing off the bar and licking the wrapper clean.

"If you're still hungry," Sportacus said, "I've got some sportscandy I can share."

"I already told you I don't want some dirty old vegetables," Robbie said. "I could never get them down."

"I don't know about that," Sportacus said. "You were doing really well eating lots of vegetables before when—"

"When I had no memory," Robbie talked over him with a hard edge, warning him off. But Sportacus just smiled.

"Actually, I was thinking about the time you filled your Energy Book."

Robbie squinted at him. "My what?"

"You know," Sportacus said, "the book where you get a sticker every time you do something that gives you energy. You filled your book before anyone else! You ate lots of carrots and drank plenty of water that day." He started to laugh. "It must have given you lots of energy, you even jumped all around on a Pogo-stick!"

Robbie's face colored at the retrospection. "Well," he retorted, "I'd only done all that to keep those kids from eating healthy and exercising!" He huffed and declared in a frosty tone, "Clearly that Pogo-stick was dangerous and NO ONE should be using it! Being active only leads to trouble."

"Maybe," Sportacus said, still laughing. His eyes crinkled with his smile. "It seems to me like you give me _more_ reason to be active, when you need some help getting out of all that trouble."

Robbie's face made a funny spasm as the villain fought against several different expressions at once. He looked away from Sportacus. "You are always helping me," he muttered.

The smile softened on Sportacus' face. "That's good though, right? It's what friends do."

"You're the only one," Robbie said, "who ever helps me."

Sportacus paused to look closer at him. "I'm always happy to do it, Robbie."

Robbie snorted. "Even when you shouldn't."

"I don't know," Sportacus said with a wry grin, "I think it's kind of fun."

"It's fun to see me in trouble?" Robbie asked, rolling his eyes.

"It's fun all the ways you cause it to happen," Sportacus said. "At least most of the time it's not too dangerous."

"I shot you out of a cannon," Robbie pointed out. Sportacus shrugged.

"There was a safety net."

"Whatever."

"You've helped me too, you know," Sportacus said. Robbie glanced at him. "When I had my last sugar meltdown, you saved me then..."

Robbie's eyes widened, then his entire demeanor darkened with a scowl. "That was completely different," he snapped. "And you know it." The villain grabbed hold of the silo's lid and yanked it up over his head.

Sportacus sprang forward and grabbed the hatch too, pulling against him to keep it open. "Robbie wait!"

"Let go, Sportface," Robbie growled.

"Are you mad at me?" Sportacus asked.

"N-no," Robbie forced the word through his teeth. "I want to be alone now. All this sunshine is hurting my eyes and you talking my ear off is giving me a headache!"

"Well, okay," Sportacus relented. He eased off on holding the silo lid back and Robbie pulled it over his head again, almost shutting it entirely. The man shot one last glare at the hero from under the shadowy space. "I hope you feel better," Sportacus offered.

"Me too," Robbie grumbled, and closed the lid.


	12. 2:6

Sportacus paced behind the billboard. He'd already knocked twice on the silo and Robbie hadn't answered either time. As much as he wanted to keep knocking he controlled himself the best he could. He'd been waiting for so long, though, he might have to give up today.

The slightest creak from the hatch pricked Sportacus' ear and he whirled around to see. There was a gap of space between the chute and the lid, and Robbie's dark eyes gleamed from within. The villain opened it a little wider, only enough to permit his head and shoulders.

"I thought I heard someone skulking around out here," Robbie muttered.

"Robbie," Sportacus let the relief saturate his voice, "you're okay?"

"Of course I am."

"That's good," Sportacus said. He offered a tentative smile. "I was worried you still weren't feeling well when you didn't come up right away."

"I'm trying to work down here," Robbie said. "Can't a man work on his machines without someone banging around outside every ten minutes?"

"I didn't know you liked to work on machines," Sportacus said. "I mean, besides the ones you've used around the kids before, but you haven't done that in a while."

"Yeah, well, I do." Robbie lifted his chin. "I happen to be an amazing inventor even when it's not devising ways to keep noisy brats quiet. The Rotten LTD brand is a generations long family business, and still going strong, thank-you-very-much."

"I had no idea," Sportacus said with the appropriate amount of awe.

"Of course you wouldn't have," Robbie said, grinning just a little. "Now you do, and I'll be getting back to it."

"Why don't I join you?" Sportacus asked before the man could leave. Robbie scoffed, unable to bite back the entire laugh.

"Why, so you can bang around _inside?_ "

"If you're working on something now, I'd like to see it. And the rest of your home, too."

"You're serious?" Robbie tilted his head, giving Sportacus the side eye. "You really want to come down here?"

"Well, the last couple of times I didn't get much of a chance to check it out." Sportacus chuckled. "Maybe third time's the charm."

Robbie began to speak in a decidedly negative tone but stopped. His mouth snapped shut and scrunched in thought. Something sly settled across his features then, smoothing them back out. He gave a slight nod.

"You can come in," he said, "if you help me get some things first."

"Sure thing, Robbie." Sportacus nodded right along with the villain. "What do you need?"

"I could use a new hammer," Robbie said, "and a saw. Some pliers wouldn't hurt."

"Well, I know the mayor has tools like that," Sportacus said. "He's been very busy making repairs around town…" Sportacus caught Robbie's eye. "… but I can see if he doesn't need them right now."

"You can get it all by yourself, right?" Robbie was already lowering himself back down the chute. "I can't leave this unsupervised."

"What is it?" Sportacus asked.

"Maybe you'll find out," Robbie said. His chuckle echoed and drifted out of the silo. It followed Sportacus as he left to carry out his mission.


	13. 2:7

The fence around Bessie's property was still in pieces. Robbie had broken a large section of it after the party. For as many times as Milford Meanswell tried to put the fence back together it just kept falling apart again. He struck his own fingers as often as he hammered in the posts. Ultimately the job was left unfinished in favor of less demanding work to give his digits time to heal.

Ms Busybody stood in her yard hanging up sheets to dry on the clothesline. She hummed as she worked. Milford hummed an accompaniment from his place kneeling in the flower bed. Robbie had torn through the flowers too, and the new buds were just now starting to bloom.

Sportacus entered the yard through the large gap in the fence. Bessie noticed him first, stepping back from her laundry to throw up her hands and trill out a greeting.

"Oh hello, Sportacus! Would you be a dear and take this dry laundry for me? There's a good man."

"Certainly, Bessie." Sportacus scooped up the big woven basket loaded with folded sheets and balanced it on one shoulder. As he sauntered across the yard towards the house he paused behind Milford. "Do you need any help with that, Mayor?"

"That's all right, Sportacus. I've got a green thumb when it comes to gardening. Two, even!" The man turned and wiggled his fingers with a chuckle. Many of them were wrapped in bandages but they didn't seem to bother him much.

"I can take care of the fence," Sportacus offered. To that Milford nodded vigorously.

"Oh, would you? That would make Ms Busybody so happy. There's been so much to do around here that I just can't keep up."

"Of course, Mayor." Sportacus left the man to weeding the flowers. He deposited his basket of laundry on the back stoop of the house and turned to survey the yard.

From here it was easy to see remnants of the path of destruction that Robbie had cut through the property. The hedges at one end of the yard were still broken and bent where the villain had torn through like a cannon ball. If he squinted it almost looked like a Robbie-shaped hole, the outline jagged with snapped twigs and leaves. Milford would be pruning and rehabilitating those shrubs for some time.

Bessie finished at the clothesline and wandered over to check on Milford. She leaned in next to him and took in a breath, then reeled back sneezing.

"Milford! What is that you're planting?"

"Well, I thought you might like some flowers that are already in full bloom, so I brought these over from my yard for you."

"But these are sunflowers! I'm allergic to sunflowers!"

"Oh my." Milford got up out of the dirt while Bessie staggered away from the flower bed. He followed the sneezing and wailing woman across the yard as she retreated to her house. "I'm so sorry, Ms Busybody. Can I get you a tissue?"

"Just get rid of them!" Bessie ordered through her stuffy nose. She slammed the door in Milford's face.

"Oh dear," Milford sighed, "I've done it again." He ran over to the flower bed and dropped to his knees. The mayor worried over the freshly transplanted flowers with his garden fork, rushed but resistant to tearing them out willy-nilly.

"You were only trying to make Bessie happy," Sportacus said. "It's the thought that counts, after all."

"Yes, I just hope she forgives me," Milford said. "I would hate for her to be unhappy because of something I've done."

"I'm sure she's already forgiven you," Sportacus said. Milford sat back and wiped some sweat from his bald head. He'd only managed to uproot a couple of the flowers so far, and he had many more to go.

Sportacus left Milford to his task and picked his way back across the yard. He stopped by the broken fence. Here Milford had left his toolbox from the last time he gave up hammering in the posts. There was a hammer and a small hand saw and many other things besides, everything that was needed to fix the fence. Sportacus intended to do it, too.

It wouldn't hurt anything for the fence to wait a few more days, though. Sportacus picked up the hammer and saw, and with a little bit of rummaging found a pair of pliers. He would fix the fence, he reasoned, after Robbie was done borrowing the tools. That way everyone would be happy.


	14. 2:8

It was difficult for Sportacus to knock on the silo's hatch with his arms full but he managed. Eventually Robbie came up and opened the lid. As soon as he saw Sportacus his eyes widened and his mouth snapped into a smile.

"You got them all!"

"That's right," Sportacus said, smiling big enough to match the other man's enthusiasm. "Should I bring these in for you?" Robbie was already scuttling back down the chute, only his flapping hand remaining to beckon the hero inside.

Sportacus had come down this way a couple times before, sliding and careening like a bobsled. Now he had to take his time going down the long and winding chute so as not to get stuck or drop any of his cargo. The crawling pace made the distance from the base of the billboard all the way down into the subterranean chamber feel that much farther, and it was already an impressive depth.

At the end of the long tube it leveled off horizontally and Sportacus wriggled along on his back, swinging his legs out first so that he could ease himself onto the floor without any incident. The temperature had been steadily dropping all the way down and it bottomed out at a chilly baseline inside the lair.

Robbie rushed him as soon as he was on his feet. "Took you long enough," he declared as he plucked one tool after another out of Sportacus' arms, piling them into his own. "I'll be taking that, and that, and this, and..."

The man paused. He wrinkled his nose.

"What are those?" he asked.

After the hammer and the saw and the pliers, Sportacus had still more to deliver. Only slightly wilted from being crowded together, the bright yellow petals were just as vibrant, maybe even more so now for being in the dimly lit bunker.

"They're sunflowers," Sportacus said. Now that his arms were free he could spruce the bouquet up and hold it out. "They're for you. Unless..." He lowered them back down so that they drooped. "You aren't allergic, are you?"

"No," Robbie said, his nose wrinkling even more. He jerked to the side right before he let out a head-banging sneeze. The man sniffled. "Maybe a little."

"Oh Robbie, I'm sorry," Sportacus said. "I should have asked first. I'll get rid of these right away."

"Wait," Robbie said, and paused again. He sniffed and cleared his throat so that the words were nearly lost under his breath. "I actually really— like— sunflowers. They're… my favorite."

"You mean, you want to keep them anyway?" Sportacus asked.

"… Yes."

"Really? That's great!" Sportacus exclaimed, his cheer booming in the cavernous room. Robbie's expression was planted somewhere between a grimace and a grin and colored like a ripe tomato. He huffed and jostled the tools around as he strode away from Sportacus towards his work bench.

"Yeah, great, whatever. Keep your hat on, Sporta-sprout." He dumped the tools on the table with a bang and a clatter.

"Where's the best spot to put them?" Sportacus asked. There were so many dark corners and shadowy recesses, the flowers were sure to brighten things up wherever they went. Robbie didn't answer. The villain had already immersed himself back in his work.


	15. 2:9

Sportacus craned his neck back to fully appreciate the height of the chamber. He couldn't even see all the way up to the ceiling. The confusing crisscross of chutes and sparse hanging lights blended into the gloom and darkness that grew more saturated the higher up he looked. It created the illusion of open air overhead. Such generous air space begged for a tightrope to be strung across from one end of the lair to the other, or trapeze swings, or a hot air balloon.

The myriad attractions on the floor brought Sportacus' gaze back down. He drifted one way and another, peering up at the catwalk where an imposing control station sat. The heavy machinery was flanked by a line of enormous glass tubes and Sportacus puzzled over the mannequins posed inside them. He scratched his head over the one wearing a blue uniform much like his own. The one beside that dressed in a familiar purple striped suit made him chuckle.

All around sat piles of scrap metal, half-assembled gadgets and blue prints for strange devices in various stages of development. The papers were scattered everywhere, pinned up on cork boards or rolled up like scrolls or crumpled and torn in rejection. Sportacus circled a furry orange recliner and placed the sunflowers down on the little table next to it. These two things, the garish upholstery and the fresh cut flowers, together made a cheerful hotspot in the middle of the otherwise cool colors in the lair.

The area of most activity and most interest was, of course, the work bench. Robbie danced around the large table laden with rusty metal and foggy glass, buzzing machines and blinking lights. He wielded his newly acquired hammer with zeal, banging and smashing something that Sportacus couldn't make heads or tails of, flinging up bits of bolts and springs. With the saw he sent off sparks and an earsplitting racket. For all that Robbie complained about noise, he was laughing along now with his own cacophony.

Sportacus' wanderings brought him to the work bench. He kept his distance from the swinging hammer and scraping saw. He'd never seen Robbie so engrossed in anything before. The lanky man hunched over his project with shoulders and elbows jutting out in sharp angles as he worked the pliers around a stubborn coil of wire. When not outright laughing Robbie still chuckled and grunted to himself, muttering in good humor.

"What is that you're working on?" Sportacus ventured to ask.

Robbie tossed the pliers aside and dusted off his hands. He ran a finger along the straightened coil and seemed satisfied. Now that the sparks and bits of metal had stopped flying Sportacus could see the invention taking shape on the table. All that banging and sawing had wrought the scrap metal into the finely joined corner of a door frame. It had a long way to be built judging by all the bits and bobs littering the table around it like a bed of rubble.

"Just a personal project," Robbie said. He stared at his invention with an uncanny intensity. There were strange embellishments on the frame, dials, knobs, and prongs sticking out here and there.

"What does it do?"

"Nothing yet." Robbie slid his gaze from his work-in-progress to Sportacus. He grinned. "I'm going to need a few more things."


	16. 2:10

Sportacus knocked on the silo. After a short delay the periscope popped up nearby and locked onto him. He waved at the bug-eyed gatekeeper with his free hand.

"Hi, Robbie."

"Did you get it?"

"I wasn't sure where to find all of it, but Pixel gave me some things. Does this look right?"

He held up his delivery for the periscope's scrutiny. A couple circuit boards and drives plus some other things that Pixel had bundled in with the rest, though the purpose of it all escaped the sports elf's comprehension. Pixel was under the impression that Sportacus was upgrading the systems on his airship. The boy had kept him late with all of his questions about the airship's specs as a result.

The periscope stared with its unblinking eyes at the computer parts for a time. Without any preamble it zipped down out of sight.

"Bring it in."

Sportacus let himself into the lair. He had an easier time than yesterday navigating the twists and turns of the shuttling tube and came out the other end in record time. Robbie did not greet him. The skinny man was bent over his work bench, elbow deep in metal and wires. Sportacus brought his offerings over and deposited them on a relatively clear space of the table.

"This is really coming along," Sportacus commented. Already Robbie had welded together a second corner of the contraption completing the top frame. It was wide enough to accommodate double doors but there weren't any hinges. He looked closer at the villain, noticing more the shadows under his eyes. Robbie's clothes were rumpled and his hair gave up flyaway strands from its normally styled and sleek pomade. "You look tired. Did you get enough sleep?"

"Not everyone has a set bedtime like you, Sporta-snore."

Sportacus furrowed his brow. "Did you get _any_ sleep last night?"

Robbie straightened up from his work and his back creaked and popped, making him groan. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair to smooth it back before fixing his bleary gaze on the other man.

"I guess not. If you hadn't come along I wouldn't have put it past midnight."

"You haven't been working on this all night, have you?" Sportacus asked.

"I could hardly do that without those parts. I had to kill time pacing the floor and watching TV too. I would have slept," Robbie said before Sportacus opened his mouth again, "if I could. It's hard to keep track of the time down here. Sometimes I can't sleep even if I want to."

Sportacus hummed a toneless note as he pondered the dilemma. "You have been down here for a long time." In fact, Sportacus didn't think that Robbie had set foot beyond the billboard ever since the party. "Don't you ever want to go out, like really out? I think the fresh air and sunshine would do you good."

"Of course I'd like to go outside sometimes," Robbie said. "There's just too many things out there that make it more trouble than it's worth."

"What things?" Sportacus asked. Robbie gave him a long suffering look.

"Obviously," he said, "there's the matter of other people. You know, those _kids_." He let out a sharp sigh. "If I could go to Lazy Park for just one afternoon without having to worry about some vicious little imps running around and making noise, bothering _me_ , of course I would go, just like that." He snapped his fingers to make his point.

"Lazy Park?" Sportacus asked. "You really want to go there?"

"Lazy Park was my favorite place before those park-wreckers put their putrid playground on it!" Robbie exclaimed, spitting with sudden venom in his voice. "Lazy Park has always _been_ lazy, and should always STAY lazy!" He breathed heavily for a second before regaining his composure and dropped his volume back down to a mutter. "I just want to sit back and relax in my favorite place without anyone disturbing me."

"We can do that," Sportacus said.

"Yeah, right," Robbie said. "What are you going to do, close the park?"

Sportacus didn't answer right away. Robbie wrinkled his brow and looked at the elf more carefully. The corners of his mouth twitched in an uncertain grin. Sportacus grinned back at him.


	17. 2:11

Robbie cringed when the light hit him as he exited the silo. He was slow to climb down the ladder and stood with his back pressed against the metal tube. The daylight made his fatigue-touched features stand out in sharp relief. The bags under his eyes were the only color in his otherwise waxy pale complexion, all the more exaggerated by his long absence from the sun.

"Come on, Robbie," Sportacus said. "It's all ready."

They walked side by side through town. Sportacus, with his shoulders squared and his head up in the usual confident manner he carried himself; and Robbie, his shoulders hunched and his head turning this way and that, shooting furtive looks all around for any other people who might be outside. There were none. Sportacus chuckled at the villain's skulking gait but made no further comment.

By the time they reached the center of town Robbie was nearly stooped over as he slunk alongside Sportacus. His darting glances made his whole face twitch and his hands fidgeted at any bench or pole or wall near enough for him to take cover behind. He did not go so far as to grasp at the blue suited man but began to lag behind him— not too far, but like a shadow, lingering in his steps.

At last they reached the entrance to the park. Sportacus swept open his arm to Robbie and dipped his head in a playful bow.

"The park is yours," Sportacus declared.

Robbie inched past the elf and squinted around. His back straightened and his head perked up. The tension evaporated from his expression leaving only open wonder.

No one sat on the benches or on the brick wall. Nobody walked along the path or across the grass. Down at the playground the swings and the seesaw were still and empty. There was no laughing or screaming or singing of any children anywhere to be heard or seen. Lazy Park was deserted.

"You really did it," Robbie murmured.

A checkered cloth lay spread out at the roots of the apple tree. They went over to it together. Sportacus dropped down and sat cross-legged, bracing his hands on his knees. Robbie eased himself down more slowly, still looking around. A smile crept across his face.

"Finally," Robbie said, "I can enjoy my favorite place again!"

The villain clapped his hands together and laughed as he flopped onto his back. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a rush as he gazed up into the apple tree's branches.

Sportacus smiled at the gangly man sprawled across the blanket. It was a rare treat to see Robbie so relaxed and content. All hints of the cringing and mincing behaviors were gone from Robbie as he lay stretched out completely exposed. He looked almost liable to fall asleep out here in the open. It wouldn't be the first time either, as Sportacus recalled.

Robbie raised his head and propped himself up on his elbows, looking at Sportacus when the mustached man started to chuckle. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"It's nothing," Sportacus said. "I was just thinking about the time you pretended to be a Lazy Scout and you fell asleep out here in the middle of a storm. The wind almost blew you away!"

"I wasn't pretending," Robbie said. "That was a very real scout uniform, and that sash had very real scouting badges. I'm a fully fledged Lazy Scoutmaster, I'll have you know."

"All right, Scottie," Sportacus said with a wink. Robbie grinned in a lopsided slant.

"Maybe you could learn a thing or two from Scottie the Scoutmaster. Instead of running around all the time you should slow down, take a minute, and sit still once in a while."

"I'm sitting here now," Sportacus said. He considered it for a moment. "I am pretty busy most of the time. It's hard to slow down. There's lots of training to do, and I have to play with the kids, and help everyone whenever they get in trouble."

"Sounds like we both needed to get out," Robbie said. Sportacus raised his eyebrows at the comment but before he could reply the other man sat back up and grumbled. "All that walking over here made me hungry. I should have brought some cake along."

"This would be a good time to have lunch," Sportacus said. "I'll get some food from my airship."

"Hold on," Robbie said just as Sportacus got to his knees. "You don't have to go anywhere. There's food right here."

Robbie held up a round, red apple.

Sportacus stared at the apple. He shifted his gaze onto Robbie's face behind it. The man's features were neutral, telling nothing of the thoughts in his head. Their eyes locked and held for several long seconds.

It was as though time itself had slowed down, all sounds muffled to a faint murmur, everything faded into the background, leaving only Robbie and the apple in focus.

"… Thank you," Sportacus said, his voice soft as if filtered through cotton. He forced his arm forward, reaching out in slowed motions like pushing through molasses, and took the apple.

His fingers trembled and he squeezed the fruit to make them still. The tremor traveled all the way up his arm, setting his very bones to quivering like jelly. If Robbie could see the shaking he made no comment about it. The man just sat there, watching and waiting.

The apple sat as heavy as a stone in Sportacus' palm. It tried to drag his hand down as he drew it up to his mouth, growing heavier the closer it came. He closed his eyes and sunk his teeth in…

… and opened his eyes wide. The apple was crisp and sweet, just the right kind of sweet. It was a perfectly normal apple.

Robbie snorted at him. "You have got to be the most trusting, most gullible person in all of LazyTown." He pretended to gag. "Honestly, your unfailing faith would make anyone lose their appetite."

"Why—"

"Why not see if you'd take another bite?" Robbie clucked his tongue. "You should be asking yourself that, Sporta-dunce. You would think after all these times you wouldn't keep taking them."

"I guess that's true," Sportacus said. "But then why wasn't this apple made out of sugar?"

Robbie's expression froze in place while the color rose in his face. "W-well, I—" He stammered and sputtered. "It would be boring, wouldn't it, pulling the same trick again and again? You've got to make things more interesting. I think this was an even better trick because it _wasn't_ a trick, don't you?"

Sportacus answered with a small laugh. Robbie cleared his throat and looked around again.

"I'm surprised no one has come by to ruin this yet. Where have all those noisy nuisances gotten to anyway, I wonder."

The laughter subsided, leaving Sportacus silent. Robbie glanced back at him and resettled his gaze on the elf.

"How did you get everyone to stay away from the park, anyway?"

"Well," Sportacus said, "everybody is at the beach right now, actually."

"Are they, now," Robbie said. "And I don't suppose you had anything to do with that?"

"I might have encouraged them all to go," Sportacus said. "It's a good day for everyone to enjoy the sun and the water and get out of town for a while, right?"

"And nobody asked why you wouldn't be there?" Robbie pressed him.

"I, ah— said I would drop by later."

Robbie's prolonged stare made the sweat prickle across Sportacus' scalp. A wry grin quirked the corner of the villain's mouth.

"You've been keeping all of this a secret, haven't you."

"I— what?"

Robbie sat up straighter on the checkered cloth. "None of the kids know what you've been up to, do they? All your visits, the little 'favors.' I'm not surprised, of course. It's not like any of them would approve of what you're doing with me."

"Robbie, it's not like that," Sportacus said. Robbie shook his head while a self satisfied smirk remained on his face.

"So does this mean you're doing something _bad_ , coming around my lair every day? I mean," he waved a hand around, his grin growing crooked across his face, "isn't it pretty _sneaky_ of you going behind everyone's backs like this? Maybe even a little _dishonest_ , how you freed up the park today, just for me?"

"I'm not..." Sportacus started and stopped. "I wasn't..." He shook his head and met Robbie's eyes. "I… I think you're right."

The grin shrank down on Robbie's face. "I am?"

"I don't want to believe it," Sportacus said, "but it must be true. It's not as though I've been telling lies, but sometimes not saying something is just as bad. I shouldn't be hiding things from the kids or anyone else. I shouldn't be hiding you, Robbie. I'm sorry."

"It's… okay, Sportacus," Robbie mumbled.

"No it's not," Sportacus said. He jumped to his feet. "But I'm going to make it right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End part 2...
> 
> SEPTEMBER UPDATE: The hiatus as it stands is indefinite at this time. My apologies for anyone who has been waiting for the next part to begin. I will try to pick this up again in the future, but right now I need a break from writing fanfiction. Until we meet again...


	18. 3: Contention

"Here he comes!" Ziggy alerted the rest of the kids from his lookout spot on the brick wall. He hopped down and ran across the playground. Everyone else stopped what they were doing, jumping off swings and sliding down the slide to come together by the seesaw.

Sportacus was just finishing up his morning run. He'd taken an extra lap around town today and still he had plenty of energy to execute a string of somersaults and flips. He ran right up to the brick wall and vaulted over it so that he tumbled head over heels, end over end, over and over through the air until he landed squarely on his feet in front of the kids.

"Hi, guys!" Sportacus said. The kids returned his greeting with smiles and waves but quickly grew subdued again. Ziggy fidgeted on the spot and blurted out before anyone else could speak.

"What happened to you yesterday, Sportacus?" Ziggy asked. "You never made it to the beach!"

The other kids let out a series of murmurs and groans for Ziggy's outburst. Sportacus was pulled up short by the question as well.

"I'm sorry," he said, "something came up. But I'm here now." Stephanie sidled in front of Ziggy and took over for the group.

"What Ziggy means," Stephanie said, "is that we've all been talking, and we wanted to know… Is everything okay?"

Sportacus raised his eyebrows as he looked around at the kids. They all had the same sort of look on their faces, an uncomfortably grave demeanor. "What do you mean?" he asked. Stephanie cast a glance among the other kids before taking Sportacus by the hand.

"Why don't you take a seat over here with us? There's something we've kind of been wanting to talk to you about."

Sportacus didn't resist the pink girl as she lead him through the playground and sat him down on the bench. Stephanie sat on one side of him and Stingy grabbed the space on his other side before anyone else did. The rest of the kids stood in front of him. Sportacus bounced his knees and rubbed his hands together.

"Okay, so what's up?"

"Well," Stephanie began, fidgeting with her bracelets, "the thing is, you've been acting really strange lately."

"Yeah," Stingy said, "you've been all distracted whenever you play with us. You forget to even help us sometimes. I had to wait a week for my kite to fall out of the tree."

"You're always running off somewhere," Trixie said, "but not like normal. You never tell us where you're going anymore."

"You asked me for some of my chocolate," Ziggy said, "but I thought you didn't like candy."

"It's like you have a bug in your code," Pixel said. "You just aren't acting like yourself."

"If something's going on you can tell us, Sportacus," Stephanie said. "We all care about you and we want to help."

Having said their piece the kids looked expectantly at Sportacus. Sportacus scratched his head.

"Ah," he said. He nodded. "I see. This is good." The kids shared the same surprised expression.

"It is?"

"Yeah, this is just what I wanted to talk to you all about today."

The kids all leaned forward, boxing Sportacus in. "So what is it?"

They crowded so close that the elf barely had room to speak. He sat in silence for a second before taking a breath.

"It's about Robbie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello out there. I think I'm ready to multitask.
> 
> It's my intention to work on this through November as part of my NaNoWriMo project. Never heard of NaNoWriMo? I encourage you to check it out! Just google NaNoWriMo or "National Novel Writing Month."
> 
> Happy reading.


	19. 3:2

"Robbie Rotten?"

Just saying his name was enough to change the mood of the group. Trixie's eyes ignited and she balled her hands into fists. Stingy wrinkled his nose like he'd caught a bad smell and screwed his mouth up in a pout. Stephanie and Ziggy seemed to wilt together, their brows knitting up while their shoulders sagged. Pixel held his composure the best out of the kids. His eyes darted a furtive back and forth as he studied Sportacus.

"Has Robbie done something? Is he causing trouble again?"

"There isn't anything left around here for him to cause trouble with," Stingy muttered.

"Is he bothering you, Sportacus?" Trixie asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Did Robbie say something mean to you?" Ziggy asked. He cast his eyes down and nibbled on his fingers, mumbling around them. "He said some awful things to us before..."

"Oh, no," Sportacus said, "it's nothing like that. Robbie and I are friends."

The children stared. _"Friends?"_

"Why would you want to be Robbie's friend?" Stingy asked. "You're _our_ friend."

" _How_ could you be Robbie's friend?" Trixie asked. "Robbie doesn't like any of us, especially after he got his memory back. And no offense, Sportacus, but he's always liked you the least."

"It wasn't easy," Sportacus said. "If anyone needs a friend, though, it's Robbie."

"We tried to be his friends," Stephanie said, "but he didn't want anything to do with us!"

"I know," Sportacus said. "To be honest, he didn't want much of anything to do with me either for quite some time. But if you work hard to earn someone's trust, you can be friends with anyone."

"So it's Robbie who's been making you act so weird?" Ziggy asked.

"Maybe it's not a good idea to get too close to Robbie," Stephanie said. "He has a lot of bad habits. Not even losing his memory stopped him from being lazy and unhealthy."

"Robbie's always been making trouble for us before," Pixel said. "He's like malware, getting into everything. How can you be sure he isn't trying to do something sneaky to you now?"

"Robbie isn't up to anything," Sportacus said. "I've spent lots of time with him already. He's not so bad once you get to know him."

"He's not so good, either," Stingy pointed out.

"We've learned that there's no way to change Robbie," Stephanie said. The other kids nodded. "And maybe we never should have tried to do it. We never meant for it to make Robbie feel bad or get angry at us. We'll never do anything like that again."

"That's good," Sportacus said. "We all made mistakes. The only thing to do now is move on from it and make amends."

"How?" Pixel asked. "Robbie was pretty clear that he didn't want anything to do with us anymore."

"Just be yourselves," Sportacus said, and smiled. "I know I can count on you guys to put your best foot forward and give Robbie another chance." The kids exchanged glances amongst themselves.

"I don't know," Stingy said, scrunching his face.

"He might still be mad," Ziggy mumbled.

"I'm still mad too," Trixie declared.

"You're really friends with Robbie now?" Stephanie asked, looking hard into Sportacus' eyes.

"Yes," Sportacus said. "And you're all my friends too."

Stephanie held his gaze. She nodded. "Okay, Sportacus."

Ziggy looked between Stephanie and Sportacus. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. "Me too!"

"And me," Pixel said. "I need to see your friendship with Robbie firsthand. This is invaluable data."

"Well I'm not going to be left out," Stingy said.

They all looked at Trixie.

Trixie glared at the group. Her hands were still clenched in fists. Huffing a big sigh she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, fine."


	20. 3:3

Robbie swung the silo hatch open and grinned when he saw Sportacus.

"I was starting to think you weren't coming today. What kept you, Sporta-slacker?"

"Robbie, I have great news," Sportacus said. "I talked to the kids."

"Oh yeah?" Robbie's grin relaxed. "About what?"

"About us," Sportacus said. "They know everything now."

Robbie narrowed his eyes and drummed his fingers along the rim of the chute. His nose twitched and made his lips purse. "So much for peace and quiet at Lazy Park."

Sportacus tilted his head. "How come?"

"Those brats only cleared out of the park before because they didn't know why you wanted them to leave. They'll never let me set foot in it now."

"Oh, but that isn't true. I actually wanted to take you back to the park today."

The villain frowned, one eye squinting to a dark slit. "Why, so you can give the little monsters something to throw their rotten sportscandy at?"

"The kids would never do something like that," Sportacus said. "But they do want to see you. I promise nothing bad will happen."

" _They_ want to see _me?_ " Robbie was really looking cockeyed at Sportacus now. "Well _I_ don't want to see _them_. In fact that just might be the last thing I would ever want to do. I'd rather gargle with tomato juice. You can tell them that."

"Robbie," Sportacus said, "it would mean a lot to me if you would come out with me."

Robbie opened his mouth but said nothing. His knuckles bulged white from his grip on the metal chute. A persistent tic made his eyebrows fidget. "Are you asking me for a favor?"

Sportacus nodded. "That's right. I know you and the kids aren't getting along right now."

Robbie snorted. "I never got along with the chattering little locusts. You can insist on being friends with every last living thing in LazyTown, but I'm not interested. It's enough work having to deal with you every day."

Sportacus smiled. "And I'm really glad you're my friend, Robbie. So as a favor to me, do you think you can try to be 'friend- _ly_ ' to everyone else?"

"Well..." Robbie rubbed his nose. He fell silent, all his nervous tics and twitches receding into a thoughtful stillness. His eyes settled on a place somewhere in the middle distance. Sportacus made no attempt to talk him into making a decision any faster, content to watch the subtle shifts in the other man's face that assured him the matter was being processed at length.

Robbie's gaze settled back on Sportacus, meeting his eyes and holding the look. The villain did not smile. His features were smooth and serious without any uncertainty or hint of humor.

"I can try," Robbie said, "but not too hard."

Sportacus' face lit up and he bounced on his feet. "Fantastic! Thank you, Robbie. I know we can all get along together."

"Yeah," Robbie said, not sounding like he believed it, "we'll see about that." Despite his tone the corner of his mouth quirked, twitching on the edge of a grin. "So when were you planning to meet the cretins in the park?"

"We aren't meeting them in the park," Sportacus said. "They've been waiting on the other side of the billboard."

The grin fell off of the villain's face. His eyes darted to the back of the billboard, then to the elf. The muscles around Robbie's eyes tightened, his brow constricting in a slow-setting glare. He growled through a clenched jaw.

"You told them… where I _live?_ "


	21. 3:4

Sportacus pried the plywood boards off of the front of the billboard one at a time. He dusted his hands and admired the complete picture filling up the canvas. In another moment a rectangular outline broke up the image once more as the camouflaged door creaked open.

One gleaming eye glared out through the gap. Robbie opened the door a little farther so that the rest of his sour expression could be seen. He fixed Sportacus with his sullen stare before glancing past him to the kids standing a few yards back.

Robbie edged out from behind the door and took halting steps down the short flight of stairs. He stopped next to Sportacus, standing stiff as a scarecrow over the children.

The kids stared up at the villain. His beady eyes narrowed on each one of them in turn. Ziggy kept his head down; Stephanie held Ziggy's hand; Stingy looked pointedly away, his nose up and eyes squinting; Pixel typed nonstop on a small portable device; and Trixie glared back at Robbie.

Feet shuffled, nostrils flared, and hands balled into fists. One by one the kids darted looks past Robbie to where Sportacus stood watching them all. Robbie didn't have to look at the elf standing beside him for the sentiment to be shared. He cleared his throat.

"Kids," he growled.

"Robbie," Trixie grumbled back. Stingy gave a sharp nod. Ziggy raised his eyes and dared to look at the tall man.

"You live behind a billboard, Robbie?" Ziggy asked. Robbie's lip curled in the beginnings of a scowl. His face strained between a grin and a grimace.

"It beats living in a tree."

"Pretty weird," Trixie said, drawing Robbie's sharp eyes her way. "No wonder you always kept it a secret."

"Well," Robbie said. He shot a sidelong glare at Sportacus. "The secret's out now."

"It's a nice picture," Stephanie said. "I like cows."

"Piggies are better," Stingy said. "Especially when they're full of coins."

Everyone fell silent. Only the clicking from Pixel punching in values on his little computer made any sound. Robbie opened and closed his hands and let out a low sigh. He looked to Sportacus.

"Are we just going to stand around here all day or what, Sporta-loon? I've got things I could be working on right now."

"If everyone's ready we can go to the park now," Sportacus said. "You will come, won't you, Robbie?"

"You're not expecting me to play in that playground, are you?" Robbie asked, wrinkling his nose. Sportacus chuckled.

"Only if you want to. Everyone can enjoy the park in their own way."

"I can't exactly enjoy it," Robbie muttered, "with everyone."

"But you enjoyed it with me, didn't you?"

The villain's nose twitched and he mumbled something incoherent. Robbie darted his eyes at the kids and he straightened out with another loud clearing of his throat.

"I guess it's true what they say," the skinny man declared. "Misery loves company. Let's get this over with."

He stalked into the crowd of kids, making them part around him. Stephanie shrugged while Trixie rolled her eyes. Pixel typed his notes furiously. After exchanging some glances among themselves they looked to Sportacus. The blue suited hero had a grin on his face as he watched Robbie walk away. He nodded at the kids and jogged after the villain. They fell into line behind him.


	22. 3:5

Robbie plunked himself down on a bench and crossed his arms. The kids stayed clustered together. Sportacus stood in the space between, bridging them with a smile.

"Everybody ready? Let's play a game."

"What game?" Ziggy asked.

"Simon Says," Sportacus announced.

"Oh, I know that game," Stephanie said. "One of us gets to be Simon and we tell everyone else what to do. But if it doesn't start with 'Simon says,' then you don't do anything. If you follow the commands without Simon saying so you lose."

"That's right, Stephanie," Sportacus said. "Why don't you start?"

"Okay," Stephanie chirruped. She trotted forward while Sportacus fell back to join the rest of her friends. "How about, Simon says put your hands on your hips."

The kids spread out enough that they had room to stand with their arms akimbo. "Hey," Ziggy said, "we all look like Sportacus now!" Recognizing the heroic stance the kids giggled a little.

"Okay," Stephanie said, "Simon says nod your head." They did so, bobbing along to a silent song. "Now, Simon says swing your hips!"

Laughter erupted as they wiggled and twisted on the spot. Ziggy shook his head up and down and gyrated his whole body side to side so hard that he stumbled backwards and let out a yelp before Sportacus caught him.

"Thanks, Sportacus," Ziggy giggled. "It's harder to do what Simon says than I thought."

"Wait a second," Stingy said, "Robbie's not playing."

The man hadn't budged from his seat. He hunched his shoulders when everyone looked at him.

"What's the matter, Silly Swinger-Hip?" Trixie called. "Can't you follow directions?"

"I've followed your kind of directions before," Robbie said. "Not interested."

"Why don't you be Simon next, Robbie?" Sportacus suggested. Robbie arched an eyebrow.

"If I do that, you'll all do whatever I say?"

"Those are the rules," Pixel said. "As long as Simon says so."

"So you say," Robbie murmured. He stroked his chin in consideration. The corners of his mouth crept up. "I suppose if you insist."

"This oughta be good," Trixie said. Keeping his seat on the bench Robbie rolled his shoulders and shook out his arms down to his wiggling fingertips.

"All right," Robbie declared. "Simon says to sit on the ground."

A few confused mutters floated around the group. Sportacus took the lead and dropped down with his legs tucked neatly beneath himself. Shrugging, the children followed suit.

"Simon says to cross your arms."

They crossed their arms. There were no giggles this time, only an uncertain quiet while they waited for the next command.

"Simon says lean forward with your chin on your chest."

The kids hesitated. They sneaked peeks over at Sportacus to see what he would do. The mustached man dipped his head down until his chin almost touched the emblem on his chest. His face was partially hidden nestled in his arms. Slowly they all did likewise.

"Be perfectly still."

They were still.

"Be absolutely silent."

They were silent.

"Good," Robbie said. "Now close your eyes and go to sleep."

Any sighs or groans were muffled in the children's arms as they obeyed. Robbie gave a satisfied snort and raised his eyebrows at Sportacus. The elf peeked out from between his arms and they shared a grin. All was quiet with everyone sitting still. Robbie settled back on his bench to survey the park.

All of the kids were down except for Trixie. She alone sat with her head raised looking at Robbie. Robbie narrowed his eyes at her.

"Is there a problem, Tacky? You're supposed to be sleeping."

"It's Trixie," the pigtailed girl snapped. "And you didn't say 'Simon says.' I don't have to do anything you say now."

Robbie squinted at her with a furrowed brow. He realized his mistake at the same time the rest of the kids did. He sputtered as everyone opened their eyes and jumped to their feet.

"I can't believe I fell for that," Stingy moaned.

"Ziggy, wake up," Pixel said, nudging the little boy in the arm. Ziggy sat up with a start and rubbed his eyes, yawning.

"Huh? What's going on?"

"We were tricked," Stephanie said. Sportacus laughed. Robbie let slip a low chuckle of his own as he got up from the bench.

"It's amazing what some people will do when they think they're supposed to listen to you, even if it isn't fun." Robbie's eyes narrowed, creasing with the curve of his wry grin. "Just like old times, isn't it?" He stared the kids down for one more second before looking to Sportacus. "If it's all the same to you, I'll be heading home. The park's too crowded for me."

"I'll walk with you," Sportacus offered.

"Suit yourself," Robbie said. The kids stared at the villain and the hero as they sauntered off together.

"What just happened?" Stingy asked. "What kind of game was that?"

"It wasn't a game for us," Trixie said. "Sportacus made the game for Robbie to play. We were just the pieces."

Pixel couldn't type fast enough on his computer to log all of the new data.


	23. 3:6

Robbie dragged his heels as he followed Sportacus. "How long is this going to take?"

"There's a lot of apple trees," Sportacus said. "But it shouldn't take more than an afternoon to pick them all."

Stephanie, Ziggy, and Trixie stood waiting under the nearest tree with their wagon. Stephanie waved at Sportacus as he approached.

"Hi, guys," Sportacus said. "Shall we get started?"

"We would," Stephanie said, "only there's one problem."

"What's that?"

Ziggy pointed up the tree. "We can't reach any of the apples."

The lowest branch was well out of reach for any of the kids. Sportacus cocked his head back and shielded his eyes to take in the situation.

"Not a problem," Sportacus said. "Wait right here."

The athletic elf crouched down low and launched himself up at the branch. Sportacus caught the sturdy tree limb and swung up on the bough.

"Careful up there, you crazy blue kangaroo," Robbie protested as he swatted away the leaves fluttering down in his face. "Can't you climb anything like a normal person?"

"We would have used the ladder," Trixie said, "except you broke it."

Robbie shrugged. "I still don't see why you want so many apples to begin with."

"Well, Robbie" Trixie said smartly, "they're the only sportscandy that didn't get ruined when you tore up our garden." She tilted her head, eyeing him up and down. "Unless you're planning to chop down our apple trees too?"

"Don't give me any ideas."

"Look out below!" Sportacus called down. Holding steady to the trunk the elf jiggled and jostled the surrounding branches, shaking the apples loose. The fruits rained down into the bed of the wagon like hailstones.

"Woah!" Ziggy covered his head with his arms as the cart filled up with apples. Stephanie pulled the little boy away from the falling hazards. Trixie ducked out of range before she too could be pelted with fruit.

"Watch it up there," Robbie tried to warn the blue suited man.

"What's that, Robbie?" Sportacus shouted over the noise from the shaking branches.

"I said—"

_THWACK._

The biggest, shiniest apple beaned Robbie on his head. He staggered and sat back hard on the ground as the apples kept dropping on him.

"Oh my gosh!" Sportacus jumped straight down the tree and landed at Robbie's side. He took him by the shoulder. "I am _so_ sorry. Are you okay, Robbie?"

The kids rushed back to the tree to see the state of the stunned villain. He squinted at the mustached man fussing over him.

"Who?"

Sportacus' face paled. Ziggy's jaw dropped while Stephanie cupped her face in her hands to hold back her grimace.

"No way," Trixie said. "This can't be happening."

"Robbie," Sportacus said, "do you… know who I am?"

"Who are you supposed to be?" Robbie asked. "Johnny Sportscandyseed?"

"Oh, no," Ziggy whimpered.

"Please no," Stephanie murmured through her lips, "not again."

Sportacus stared at Robbie, his brow knit in stitches. Robbie stared back at him with his nonplused expression. The muscles in Sportacus' face tightened the longer they held their gaze. Robbie reached up and pulled Sportacus' hand off of his shoulder.

"Of course I know who you are, Sporta-klutz."

The features froze on Sportacus' face. "You do?"

"I'm fine," Robbie said. "It was just a joke."

"Some joke!" Trixie exclaimed.

"That wasn't funny, Robbie," Stephanie said.

"Yeah," Ziggy said, "we were really worried!"

Robbie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you were."

Sportacus grasped Robbie by both shoulders, startling the skinny man into looking at him again. The hero's features had thawed, his brow crumpling with relief while a watery smile spread underneath his mustache. Sportacus dragged Robbie into a hug and squeezed him so hard that he gasped for breath.

"Thank goodness," Sportacus mumbled. He started to shake; it turned into muffled laughter.

Robbie's face grew red from the constriction and he patted one of Sportacus' arms, unable to get any purchase on the man's biceps to pry him off. "O-okay, Sport— can't breathe—"

Sportacus released him and sat back. He controlled his laughter, relaxing into a warm smile. "That was quite a joke. I was really scared!"

"I thought you weren't afraid of anything, Sportacus," Ziggy said. "Except maybe dinosaurs."

"I thought so too," Sportacus said. "But there's nothing scarier than not knowing how to help one of my friends when they're in trouble." He sighed, only a hint of a giggle still tempering his breath. When he met Robbie's eyes again he was calm. "Please don't do something like that again, Robbie."

"I—" Robbie's face was still red to match the apples all around them. He averted his gaze and cleared his throat. "I won't."

"Thank you," Sportacus said. He got to his feet and offered his hand. The villain avoided looking at him a moment longer before reaching out to accept. Sportacus pulled him up with one strong tug. "Well, this tree's done. Why don't we move on to the next one?"

"Not me," Robbie said. "That apple gave me a real headache. I need to lie down."

"I guess the saying is true," Trixie said. "An apple a day keeps Doctor Rottenstein away."

"Maybe," Robbie said, giving her a cool look. He lobbed one of the apples in an underhanded toss to the pigtailed girl. "You can pick the rest without me."

"Don't worry, Robbie, we'll save lots of apples for you," Ziggy said.

Robbie muttered a noncommittal sound in response. He left Sportacus and the kids to pick up stray apples and load them into the wagon.

Trixie buffed her apple on her sleeve and took a bite. She crunched it once, twice— She gagged and spat it back out.

"What's wrong?" Stephanie asked as Trixie stuck out her tongue. "Is it rotten?"

"It's..." Trixie turned the sportscandy over in her hand, staring in disbelief. "It's a radish."


	24. 3:7

Stephanie and Pixel stood with their heads bowed close together. They were fussing over Stephanie's pink stereo, recently resurrected from the trash can. The device had been smashed to smithereens by Robbie when he'd gotten his memory back before. The kids took painstaking efforts to pick up all those pieces and fit together the fragments in hopes of making it work again. The outer casing was a hodgepodge of glue and tape. Pixel had done what he could to repair the chips and wires inside. The only thing to do now was test it.

Holding her breath Stephanie pushed the play button on the tape deck. It made a _crunch_ noise somewhere inside. The speakers, warped and dented from being previously dashed to the concrete, hissed out a stream of stuttering pops and crackles. Snatches of sharp techno beats bleated forth and an electronic melody whooped on and off like a siren. Stephanie clapped her hands over her ears.

"This will never work," she moaned, barely audible over the garbled racket from her stereo. Pixel tried to push more buttons on the boombox and twisted the volume knob but it made no difference. The play button was jammed down and couldn't be stopped. He attempted to pry open the tape deck but it was clammed shut.

"Are you trying to make everyone in LazyTown deaf?" Robbie shouted loud enough to be heard. The kids turned to see the skinny man stalking towards them with his hands cupping his ears just like Stephanie. Sportacus walked at his side managing not to plug his ears but giving in to a slight wince in his smile as they approached the kids. Pixel gave up fine-tuning the device and banged on it with his fist until the play button popped out like a cork from a bottle and the music mercifully stopped.

"What's going on?" Sportacus asked. "We could hear this all the way from the billboard."

"It's my stereo," Stephanie said. "I haven't been able to practice my dancing ever since Robbie—" She paused, glancing between the two men. "Since it got broken."

"We've been trying to fix it," Pixel said, "but it's too far gone. I could make you something new, Stephanie. It'll play anything you want. Cassettes, CDs, WAVs, MP3s. You could have a whole concert out of your boombox!"

"Don't do that," Robbie said, waving his hands. He wrung them together when everyone looked at him. "What I mean is, you can leave it to me."

"You want to rebuild my stereo?" Stephanie couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice.

"Why not?" Robbie asked. "I can make something even better than whatever Pickax has in mind."

"Why don't we just see about that?" Pixel asked. "You make yours and I'll make mine and Stephanie can decide which one is the best."

"That sounds fair," Sportacus said. "Why don't we meet back here in a couple days and see what you've both come up with?"

"Fine with me," Robbie said. "In the meantime, I'll be taking _that_." He stepped forward and grabbed the beaten up boombox, tucking it under his arm.

"What are you going to do with it?" Sportacus asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Robbie said. "But something tells me it's going to _get broken_ again."


	25. 3:8

Stingy scowled up at the tree house with his hands on his hips. He tapped his shoe in a testy tempo and let out a huff. The small structure up in the branches had been Robbie's halfway house when he had amnesia. Nobody had been up there since then. There was no way to get in with the ladder gone.

Robbie strolled up behind the boy. "Make way, Springy," he said. Stingy jumped to the side before he could help himself.

"What are you doing here?" Stingy asked.

"Not that it's any of your business," Robbie said, "but I thought I'd check on my home away from home."

"The tree house? That's mine," Stingy said. "We built it using my wood and my tools. And besides, how are you planning to get up there?"

"Hey, Robbie," Sportacus called as he came running. He took a forward spring over the brick wall to launch himself the rest of the way and flipped end over end, landing between Robbie and Stingy. "I came as soon as I got your letter. What do you need?"

Robbie spared a smirk for Stingy and pointed up the tree. "I left some things up there. Be a pal and get them for me."

"Of course," Sportacus said with a smile. He crouched and leapt straight up at the hatch on the bottom of the tree house. Stingy's jaw dropped watching as the elf punched the hatch open, then sprung up a second time and caught hold of the open frame to hang there by his fingertips. The man's arms flexed and strained as he heaved himself inside.

"Hey, wait," Stingy said. "I want to go up too!"

"Sorry, Stingy," Sportacus said, sticking his head out the little window. "It's not a good idea for anyone else to come up here without a way down." He disappeared back inside. Stingy narrowed his eyes at Robbie and the tall man tilted his head, giving the child a lazy look.

"You heard the elf," Robbie said. "The tree house is off limits to little boys. In fact, maybe I should store some things up there after all. You wouldn't mind taking some things up for me," Robbie called to Sportacus, "would you?"

"Sure thing," Sportacus said, his feet dangling down from the open hatch. Stingy and Robbie stood back as the blue suited man dropped out of the tree and landed heavily with his arms full of odds and ends from the tree house.

"Wait a second," Stingy blurted, pointing at the bundle of goods. "That teacup is from my house! And those saucers, and that sugar bowl! I thought they were lost!"

"As I recall," Robbie said, "you gave those things to me when I had to move up there in the first place. Or did you forget?"

"We all gave Robbie a few things," Sportacus reminded the boy. "The mayor's overalls are here, and this is some of my spare bedding too, but you're free to keep that, Robbie. Do you need your things back, Stingy?"

"I—" Stingy looked from Sportacus to Robbie and back again. He clenched his hands and lifted his nose up high. "I only meant for Robbie to _borrow_ those things. He wasn't supposed to keep them."

"No skin off my nose," Robbie said with a shrug. He pulled the dishes from Sportacus' cargo and passed it off to Stingy. "I don't need some junky old tea set anyway."

"It's not junk," Stingy snapped. "And I'm sure the mayor will be wanting his clothes back too."

"Will you take them to him, Stingy?" Sportacus asked. "That would be really helpful. Thanks!"

Stingy sputtered but could not form a refusal as the dirty overalls were draped over his arms, muffling the clinking of the dishes. Robbie still had a sly grin on his face as he watched the boy juggle his burden. The man turned his attention back to Sportacus and clapped him on the back, leading him along.

"If you're willing to give up perfectly good pillows and blankets, maybe there's a few more things knocking around in your airship you wouldn't mind giving away?"

Sportacus laughed. "You'll have to come up and see for yourself." Robbie laughed too, a drier chuckle.

"That's one offer I'll have to refuse."

"Really? You always used to want to get into my airship before."

"I've had my fill of flying. The next time you hand out tickets to the airship you can give them to one of those kids."

They continued to talk as they walked away, their voices fading out of Stingy's range. The boy stood rooted to the spot glaring after them. He threw down the overalls and the dishes, cracking the teacup and shattering one of the saucers.


	26. 3:9

Everything was almost ready in the mayor's kitchen. The kids all had their aprons on, Ziggy had found some oversized oven mitts that went all the way down to his elbows, and Stingy had laid claim to the chef's hat before anyone else could wear it. Stephanie set out the mixing bowls, pie tins, and other ingredients one by one on the counter.

"Pie crusts?" Stingy asked.

"Got them." Stephanie carefully laid the crusts out inside the dishes and pressed them down evenly.

"Spices?"

"All here!" Ziggy fumbled with the tubes of ginger, allspice, and cinnamon with his oven mitts. The cap came off of the cinnamon and puffed out a brown cloud that made him cough.

"Oven?"

Pixel checked the readout on the oven. "Preheated and ready for pies."

"Excellent," Stingy said. "All we need now are the apples." He looked around the kitchen. "Where are they?"

There came a knocking at the door. Stingy rushed out of the kitchen to answer with Stephanie close behind. They opened the door to Sportacus and their excited greetings were dampened when they saw he was empty-handed.

"Hi, guys, have you started baking?"

"How can we when you didn't bring the apples?" Stingy asked with a pout. Sportacus raised his eyebrows.

"That's strange, Trixie told me she would take care of them this morning. I was just coming to see if you needed me to cart any more over before I go get Robbie."

"We haven't seen Trixie," Stephanie said.

"Is it a good idea for Robbie to come here?" Stingy adjusted the chef's hat on his head. "We don't want to have too many cooks in the kitchen. He's already ruined one cooking show for us before."

"Robbie promised he would stick to the script this time," Sportacus said with a chuckle. "Why don't you both come with me and we'll go get him? We can all bring the apples in together."

"I guess," Stingy grumbled, "but I'm still head chef."

"Yes, Chef," Sportacus said with a wink.

They walked through most of town to get to the outskirts where the billboard came into view. Stephanie bolted ahead waving her arms.

"Trixie! Where have you been?"

Trixie dragged an empty red wagon behind her. She halted as her friends approached. Stingy banged on the side of the wagon.

"Here's the apple cart, but still no apples! Where are they?"

"I just finished with them," Trixie said. "You did say Robbie was helping, right, Sportacus?"

"Yes," Sportacus said, "we're getting him now so we can go to the mayor's house."

"O-o-oh," Trixie exclaimed, "I was supposed to take the apples to the mayor's house?"

"Where else would you take them?" Stingy demanded. Trixie laughed and slapped her leg.

"Oh man, how silly of me. I thought you wanted me to take the apples to _Robbie's_ house. I just finished dropping them off."

They rushed the rest of the way, dashing behind the billboard in a rambling stampede. Sportacus climbed the steps two at a time and reached the silo first. He knocked rapidly. "Robbie?" he called. His knock didn't produce the same hollow echo it normally did. Hopping up on the ladder he tugged open the lid to uncover the entrance.

Apples tumbled out and rolled across the metal platform to the children's feet. Sportacus dug through the sportscandy, pulling them out in handfuls. A hand shot up out of the tube, clawing into open air, and Sportacus grabbed it. With much yanking and heaving he managed to pull Robbie free of the silo crammed full of fruit.

"Robbie, are you all right?" Sportacus steadied the taller man and brushed off bits of pulverized apple from his shoulders. Robbie's face was paler than the apple pulp.

"I was just coming up to wait for you," Robbie said, "when someone tried to turn me into applesauce!"

Stingy and Trixie leaned into each other with the force of their laughter. There was no baking to be done that day. They all had to take off their aprons and get down to the business of sorting out the bad apples.


	27. 3:10

Trixie and Stingy sat on one bench in the town square while Ziggy took the one beside them. Robbie had picked the bench farthest back and sat with his arms crossed. Sportacus stood at his side, more comfortable on his feet. Stephanie sat on the foremost bench in front of the stage with the podium where the mayor normally gave his speeches.

Pixel had beaten Robbie in a game of rock-paper-scissors to see who would present their finished stereo first. He moved back and forth putting finishing touches on his presentation. It wasn't just a replacement boombox, but a fully decked out sound system with tower speakers, amplifiers, and a mixing board.

"Audio outputs connected, crossover set on the subwoofer, frequencies equalized..." The computer kid powered on the equipment. The speakers coughed and hummed a low resonant note. Pixel grinned and lowered his visor over his eyes. "All right, we're ready to rock!"

The hum intensified, making everyone's hair stand on end until a rich peel of synthetic chords poured forth. The square filled with crisp treble notes pulsing along the bass line. Bopping his head to the beat Pixel let his fingers fly across the mixing board and adjacent control panel. A series of lights rose up and swiveled in rhythmic circuits, draping everyone in flashing colors.

Stephanie jumped up and danced to the music, spinning so that she was a pink blur. The other kids were pulled from their seats too by the pounding sound surrounding them. They laughed and whooped, jumped and jammed. Sportacus bounced on the balls of his feet, nodding along with a grin.

Robbie remained seated. He watched everyone bounce off the benches and wave their arms, taken by the music. When they showed no signs of stopping the skinny man stood up and reached behind his bench to pull out his entry in the competition. It was Stephanie's old stereo, looking neither better nor worse for the wear. He carried it up to the stage.

Robbie set the little pink boombox on the podium. Pixel paused in his administrations on the mixing board to watch. Robbie adjusted the placement of the stereo a few times. He glanced sidelong at Pixel and pushed the Play button on the tape deck.

At first the music kept pounding out of Pixel's speakers and nobody had even noticed Robbie moving. Robbie grasped the volume dial on the boombox and turned it slowly. As he did so the music began to fade.

Pixel goggled at Robbie and looked down at his controls. He turned up the volume on his setup and for a moment the song regained its former strength. Robbie kept turning his dial and the music faded once more. The kids stopped dancing when their own shouts became louder than the song and they looked up at the podium.

"What happened to the music?" Ziggy asked.

"I don't know," Pixel said, still fiddling with the settings on his board. He turned off the light show and fiddled with some wires. No matter what he did the music kept fading, lowering from a booming beat to a mumble, then a murmur. At last it was a muzzy hum issuing out of Robbie's boombox. Robbie pressed the Stop button on the tape deck and the music cut out completely.

"Turn my song back on," Stingy complained.

"Enough of that noise," Robbie said. He adjusted a couple dials on the face of the stereo and hit the Play button again. "Feast your ears on this."

Nothing happened. The town square was hushed in the immediate absence of the techno dance party that had been filling it moments before.

The kids looked at each other, fidgeting more the longer they waited. Trixie rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something.

No words came out. The pigtailed girl touched her throat and opened her mouth wide in a noiseless shout. The other kids watched her and opened their mouths too. None of them could utter a sound.

"This is one of my favorites," Robbie said while the children flapped their mouths mutely and with increasingly frantic gestures. "I call it, 'The Sound of Silence.' I could listen to it all day." He cupped a hand behind one ear and grinned out at his audience. "What's that? You want me to turn it up? I'd be delighted."

He cranked the volume dial. All suggestion of sound disappeared, sucked out of the air and into the stereo. It was the silence of an absolute vacuum. Robbie ticked his hands in pantomime of conducting a song only he could hear.

Stephanie rushed forward and leapt onto the stage. Robbie didn't try to stop her as she seized the boombox and hurled it to the ground. It shattered on impact and released an explosion of discordant noises, percussion and synthesizers and shouting and clapping and screeching feedback, everything roaring louder one over the other.

The sounds eventually sorted themselves out, settling into their appropriate places until it was quiet again. Nobody spoke or moved for a moment. Robbie looked down at the remnants of pink plastic, a grin flickering on the edge of his mouth. He arched an eyebrow at the kids.

"I take it you don't want to hear another one?"


	28. 3:11

Milford Meanswell took one of the rolled up fliers out of the bundle that Ziggy carried and spread it open against the wall. Stingy provided the tape for him to fix the corners in place. They admired the notice. The Sportscandy Festival had almost been canceled due to the scarcity of fruits and vegetables around town. But there were always apples.

"It's got to be big," Stingy said.

"Yes, of course," Milford said, "big enough for the whole town."

"And there should be all sorts of snacks," Ziggy said and spread his arms wide, dropping the rest of the fliers. He scrambled to pick them back up.

"Certainly," Milford said as he tried to shake a piece of tape from his fingers. "We'll have apple pie and apple cider, baked apples and candied apples..."

While Ziggy fumbled with the fliers and the mayor tangled with the tape Stingy stood idly by, letting his eyes pass lazily over the town. He saw Sportacus and Robbie walking through the town square, by all appearances making their way to the tree house again. Stingy straightened up, drawing alert.

"Hey, Sportacus!" Stingy hallooed. The blue suited hero halted in place with the skinny villain almost walking into him. Sportacus smiled once he met the boy's gaze and jogged over. Robbie held back, favoring Stingy with a frown. Not to be left behind he trudged after Sportacus.

"Ah, Sportacus," the mayor turned towards Sportacus, his fingers all bound together with ribbons of tape, "just the man I've been looking for."

"What can I do for you, Mayor?"

"As you know, the Sportscandy Festival is just around the corner, and we've barely made any progress getting things together."

"I gave the mayor back his overalls the other day," Stingy chimed in, "and he mentioned that you had borrowed a bunch of his tools a while ago too, Sportacus."

"That's right," Milford said. "You said you would fix Ms Busybody's fence, but I couldn't help noticing it isn't done yet."

"Oh," Sportacus said, his eyes widening. He rubbed his head through his hat. "I'm sorry, Mayor, I completely forgot."

"That's all right, Sportacus," Milford said mildly. "But we could really use those tools to build up the stage for the festival. Once we're done with that you can fix the fence."

"I would be happy to," Sportacus said. "The thing is, though..." He glanced at Robbie and the other man returned his look with a small shake of his head. "I don't actually have them right now."

"You don't?" Milford tried to pull his fingers free of their tape cocoon. "Then who does?"

"Robbie needed to borrow them," Sportacus said.

"Oh?" the mayor paused in his struggles to look at Robbie. "Well, Mr. Rotten, we'll be needing those tools back."

"I still need them," Robbie said. Milford blinked a couple times as he searched Robbie's face and found the man was serious. Robbie kept his expression neutral save for a twitch around his nose. "Not for very much longer."

"I'm afraid we don't have time to wait," Milford said.

"I'll help build the stage," Robbie offered without hesitation. "I can keep using the tools then, can't I?"

"Well, I suppose," Milford said. Stingy's mouth puckered in a pout but he held his tongue. It was just as well for Bessie Busybody's voice pealed through the conversation, heralding her appearance.

"There you are, Milford, I've been looking all over for you!" The woman's heels clacked on the pavement as she flounced up to the group. "I just took out the first batch of apple tarts and need someone to taste them. Then I can get started on the apple crisp and cobbler, and, well, you can see I've got a lot on my plate!"

Bessie stopped talking, looking at Robbie for the first time. She gave him the evil eye.

"It's a lot of hard work and responsibility taking on all the baking duties, but of course I'm happy to do it out of the goodness of my heart. I just hope there won't be any _repeat offenses_ like the last time I tried to do something nice for other people by slaving away over a hot stove, all to have it thrown at my _feet_."

Milford mumbled a low "Oh, my," under his breath while Ziggy swallowed back a nervous giggle. Stingy looked at Robbie with his eyes narrowed to sly slits. In the expectant pause that followed Bessie's statement Robbie stared back at her, his face fixed in a careful mask.

"I should hope not," Robbie muttered. He cast a furtive glance around and mumbled something else too quick to be clear before bowing out of the circle and scuttling off back through the town square. Sportacus stared after the taller man before coming to his senses and running after him to catch up with his quick strides. Bessie gave a satisfied snort.

"I'd better get back to baking. That man is going to eat humble pie for a long time."


	29. 3:12

"One, two, three," Stephanie counted while she faced the tree, "green light!"

All at once her friends crept forward from the starting line several yards back from her. With most of the sports equipment ruined they had to play freeform games, and Red light-Green light was one of their favorites. Today even Sportacus had joined them and tiptoed alongside Ziggy, keeping pace with the little boy as he rushed forward to tag Stephanie before she would call out—

"Red light!" Stephanie whirled around to face them. Stingy, Pixel, and Trixie froze in place. Ziggy skidded to a halt and nearly fell flat on his face before Sportacus reached out and grabbed him. Stephanie giggled.

"You're out, Sportacus. You too, Ziggy."

"Awe, gee," Ziggy said. "Thanks Sportacus, and sorry."

"It's all right, Ziggy, as long as you're safe."

"Okay," Stephanie said, turning back to face the tree. "One, two, three, green—"

"Everybody FREEZE!" Robbie boomed as he strode in, his footsteps thundering on the asphalt. The kids all stared as the skinny man stomped right up to Sportacus and grabbed his arm. "You, come with me, NOW."

"What's wrong, Robbie?" Sportacus asked, taking in the other man's clenched jaw and tightly drawn features. His whole body radiated agitation from his tensed shoulders down his rigid spine. Robbie glared at the elf before turning his dark look on the kids.

"The whole lot of you may as well come. After all, a _criminal_ always returns to the scene of the crime."

"Crime? What happened?" Sportacus didn't resist as Robbie pulled him along. He darted a look back at the kids with a shrug and a wave of his free hand to usher them along.

Nobody protested the interruption of their game. They trailed behind Sportacus, keeping a modest distance from Robbie's angry procession. He hadn't strode with such purpose since the day of the party. There would be no detours to destroy any public property today however. He took them on a direct course to the billboard at the edge of town.

Robbie released Sportacus to flail wildly with both arms at the billboard. He shouted, near screaming. "There, you see?!"

The pastoral scene looked much the same with its green hills and purple mountain range. But the cow, standing in the foreground, had undergone a change. Its normally vacant eyes were altered by jagged black strokes of paint for eyebrows giving it a savage glare. Its muzzle was contorted by an oversized and cartoonish black mustache and big crooked buckteeth. A wild zigzag of uneven spikes ran down its back all the way to the tip of its tail. The paint was still wet, dripping down the bovine's body.

Everyone gawked at the transmorgrified animal. Ziggy's mouth hung open, his eyes wide. Stephanie clasped her hands tightly in front of her face, obscuring her grimace. Stingy wrinkled his nose at the paint fumes and Pixel adjusted his visor on his head as he stared at the state of the picture. Robbie glared daggers at each one of them in turn, landing lastly on Trixie. The pigtailed girl met his ferocious gaze with tight lips, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Somebody," Robbie growled, "thought it would be fun to vandalize my property. But they left something else behind." He jabbed his finger towards the base of the billboard just under the cow. The paint can sat with the brush sticking out, no attempt made to hide it. A small puddle of paint congealed on the landing beside it. Square in the center of the splotch was the perfect imprint of a shoe. "Now," Robbie snarled, "we'll see who the shoe fits, and you can wear that paint can on your head!"


	30. 3:13

"I don't understand," Sportacus said. "You think one of the kids did this?"

"I don't think, I know," Robbie said. "And I can prove it. The answer is right under your nose." He stomped his foot. "I want to see everyone's shoes this instant."

Slowly the children got down on their knees and untied their laces. Sportacus crossed his arms, watching them with an unsettled slant to his mouth but allowing Robbie to continue.

"I'm ready," Stingy announced as he stepped out of his shoes, "me first." He held them up and Robbie snatched them away to look them over. The brown leather was polished and spotless. With a disgusted grunt he thrust them back at the fancy boy.

"Next," Robbie snapped.

"Here's my shoes," Ziggy said. Robbie plucked the sneakers from Ziggy and made a face as he turned them over.

"There's gum all over these," he exclaimed. "How do you even walk?"

"So that's where my bubble gum went!"

Pixel's shoes were free of gum and paint. Stephanie's sneakers were perfectly pink. Robbie narrowed his eyes at Trixie. The clamped line of her mouth twisted against a smirk. She gave Robbie her shoes. As he turned them over his nostrils flared and his eyebrows drew taut in an irate imitation of the cow's glare behind him.

"Have you ever thought to yourself," Robbie said in a low, tense voice, "boy, my shoes are sure covered with slimy smelly goo?"

Trixie couldn't keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. "Guilty as charged. That billboard has been the same for ages, it was about time that cow got a makeover. Come on, Robbie, can't you take a joke?"

Robbie's eyes ignited and his whole face lit up in a fiery flush. "A joke!" he roared, throwing her shoes to the ground. "Is something funny about this to you, Loud-Girl? Why don't you tell everyone what's so funny!"

"There's no need to yell," Sportacus said, stepping between the raging man and the girl. "We can fix this. The paint should be easy to clean off."

"Who's going to fix the juvenile delinquent who did it?" Robbie spouted his fury in Sportacus' face. "She should be put in jail!"

"Nobody's going to jail," Sportacus kept his voice low. "Trixie made a mistake, but she didn't mean any harm. This is a misunderstanding."

"No, _you_ don't understand," Robbie snapped. He pointed his finger between Sportacus' eyes. "This is my home. _You_ showed everyone where it is and now see what I have to put up with? Isn't it enough that I have to live underground to get away from this cackle of laughing hyenas? Maybe I should take your airship for a joyride and see how _you_ like it!"

"Like you haven't done that before," Trixie muttered. Robbie jerked his head around to look at the girl but Sportacus shifted with him, blocking his view. The hero reached out to rest a calming hand on Robbie's shoulder but the villain spun away from him, storming around the billboard to climb the stairs behind them.

"I want my property restored," Robbie hurled the words back at the group. "If it's not back to normal by morning I'll paint this entire town red myself!"

They listened as he banged up the steps. The silo shrieked and gonged from being yanked open and slammed shut. Everything was quiet in Robbie's wake. Sportacus sighed. He turned his gaze to Trixie, his eyes soft under a furrowed brow.

"What were you thinking?"

"Like I said, it was a joke." Trixie nudged one of her discarded shoes with one toe. Sportacus looked to the rest of the kids.

"Were all of you in on this joke?"

They looked every which way but at Sportacus. The longer he waited the more they squirmed, fussing with their shoes and darting glances at each other.

"It was Trixie's dumb idea," Stingy blurted out.

"Thanks a lot, Stingy," Trixie said.

"It wasn't just Trixie," Pixel said, "we all contributed."

"I didn't!" Ziggy cried. "I only said the billboard should warn people better not to get too close." He shot a fearful look at Sportacus. "Like making the cow look like dragon or something scary like that."

"I came up with the design," Pixel said. "It's my model."

"But it's _my_ paint," Stingy said bitterly.

"We were just drawing things in my house," Stephanie said. "We only joked about painting the billboard, we never would have done it for real."

"Except me," Trixie said, her eyes cast down.

"But why?" Sportacus asked.

"Because," Trixie said, her hands balling into fists, "Robbie is still as rotten as ever!"

Sportacus' face showed open surprise. His brow wrinkled deeper. "I thought you were all getting along with Robbie."

"We're trying," Stephanie said. "But he doesn't make it easy."

"He says mean things all the time," Ziggy mumbled.

"My sound system still isn't working right after Robbie played his last trick on us," Pixel said.

"He's only nice to _you_ ," Stingy said pointedly to Sportacus.

"Robbie gets away with everything," Trixie said. "I know what I did was wrong, but Robbie's done way worse to us before. Like the time he made us all think we were sick with Spotty Vegititus."

"Or the time he made all the electronics in LazyTown go haywire," Pixel said.

"He's stolen the mayor's job at least two times and made us follow ridiculous rules," Stingy grumbled.

"And he tried to take away all the sportscandy so that we couldn't have our Sportscandy Festival," Ziggy said. He scratched his head. "Gee, that's kind of happened again, hasn't it?"

"He was always trying to find ways to make you leave LazyTown before, Sportacus," Stephanie said. "Maybe he's not after you anymore, but it still feels like he's up to something."

"I know this has been difficult," Sportacus said, "for everyone, including Robbie. It just needs more time."

"I don't know how much more I can take," Trixie said. The other kids mumbled their agreement. Sportacus crossed his arms again and shifted his stance. He frowned, not aiming a harsh look at the kids but rather fretting over something inward. He offered a slight nod.

"You can give it a rest for today. Why don't you all go back to the park?"

The children stirred, sharing uncertain looks. "Shouldn't we help fix the billboard?" Pixel asked. "I could make a cleaning solution..."

"It's all right," Sportacus said, "I'll take care of things here." He gave them half a smile. "Now go play."

They obeyed, wasting no more time in getting away from the billboard. When they looked back they saw Sportacus walking around the side of the sign. He disappeared up the stairs the way that Robbie had gone.


	31. 3:14

Sportacus climbed down the chute into Robbie's lair. The winding tube still smelled of apples until he reached the bottom. Down here the sharp scents of grease and machinery were strongest, along with the faint whisper of flowers.

"So you just let yourself in now, do you?" Robbie's voice asked off to one side. Sportacus turned towards the catwalk where the villain's control center was situated. The man in the striped suit had his back to the room, his head bowed over the electric keyboard. He pushed a couple keys, playing a snatch of a song. Beside him the periscope was still pulled down at eye level, casting a small yellow light on the side of his face. The earlier rage had dissipated leaving his expression flat. "At least you had the sense to send them away before they could use up the paint."

"They wouldn't do that," Sportacus said. Robbie snorted.

"And yet they did."

Sportacus couldn't argue with that. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't bother apologizing for them," Robbie said. "I doubt they're sorry for anything they've done."

"I'm not," Sportacus said. "I'm sorry for what I've done."

Robbie dropped his hand from the keyboard and turned enough to glance over his shoulder at Sportacus. "What are you going on about now?"

Sportacus shuffled his feet around, trying not to knock over any of the piles of scrap metal all over the floor. Robbie had been busy down here since he'd last visited. The room was almost impassable with more prototypes and half-formed machines strewn about than ever. The work bench was buried under a great hulking thing covered with a heavy tarp, like a sleeping dragon tucked into bed.

"All I wanted was for everyone to get along," Sportacus said, "but maybe I tried to force it too much, on all of us. It's been… difficult, trying to do all the things I'm supposed to be doing, and see to it that everyone's happy."

"You mean running around, helping and playing with everyone, and keeping those kids entertained," Robbie said.

"That's right," Sportacus said.

"Because you're spending time with me," Robbie said. Sportacus stumbled over a stack of crates and sent them clattering to the floor. He caught himself and shot a meek look at Robbie. The man had turned completely on the catwalk to look down at him.

"I don't see how—"

"If you can't see that those spoiled brats are jealous then you must be blind," Robbie said. "They don't want to share their hero with anyone, least of all me."

"Jealous?" Sportacus drew a blank and it showed on his face. Robbie's expression twitched, his mouth quirking into a grin.

"Really, Sporta-dunce, do I have to spell it out for you? The kids don't like that you like me because they don't like me. But I don't like them either, so it hardly makes a difference."

"You really don't like each other," Sportacus said, his voice laden with defeat. He frowned at the floor and nudged some toppled over contraptions out of his way. "Have I just been making trouble for everyone all this time?"

"Hardly," Robbie said. He pushed the periscope up out of the way and descended the catwalk. "I knew it wasn't worth trying too hard to make nice with the brats. They just can't resist reminding me of every not-so-nice thing I've ever done. They only ever remember me as their villain." He met Sportacus' eyes. "And what kind of villain would be friends with their hero? Only one who's up to no good."

"That's not true," Sportacus said. He picked his way carefully across the floor so as not to trip on anything else. He held out his hand. "Let's go back up and talk to them, together. We can make them understand. You don't have to forgive them, but we can put an end to this— this bad behavior."

Robbie scoffed. "I never forgave them for how they treated me the first time when my memory was lost."

"But you forgave me."

"Yes," Robbie said, his grin subsiding. He looked at Sportacus' hand, still reaching out to him. "I've been trying to make it up to you ever since."

Sportacus wrinkled his brow. "What do you mean?"

Robbie shook his head. He rubbed his nose and pulled a smile onto his lips. He stepped over discarded gears, scattered nails and corrugated sheet metal, and took Sportacus' hand.

"I'll show you."

He pulled Sportacus across the room. The elf hopped and skipped over obstacles where Robbie waded directly through the heaps of junk, scattering papers and pieces of various machines with impunity. He forged the path up to the work bench and pulled the heavy canvas off of the bulky object hidden underneath.

The metal frame took up the entire surface of the work table and beyond. Sportacus recognized the oddly embellished archway from one of his earliest visits to Robbie's abode. It had been big before, wide enough to hinge double doors on it. Now it looked larger than life and greatly encumbered with a wild assortment of bulbs and wires, pronged antennas and knobs. It could be the doorway into another dimension.

"This is… for me?" Sportacus looked at Robbie. The other man's eyes were riveted on his invention, a disquieting energy animating his face. When he did look away he startled Sportacus with a crooked smile, almost leering.

"It's for everyone," he said. "I'll have it ready at the festival tomorrow."

Sportacus' eyebrows raised of their own accord. "You're still coming? I figured after everything that's happened today you wouldn't want to."

"Oh, I want to go more than ever," Robbie said. "After all I did agree to build the stage."

"If you're sure..."

Robbie put a hand on Sportacus' shoulder and met his eyes with calm resolve. Sportacus noticed the heavy shadows under his eyes and realized they had always been there, brought on by many sleepless nights. "I haven't gone through all of this nonsense for the kids, you know. I never thanked you for being my friend."

"You don't have to thank me," Sportacus said. All the same Robbie gave him a rueful grin that only made him look more tired than ever.

"Consider this my apology."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End part 3...


	32. 4: Consummation

Sportacus was already awake when morning came. He had slept fitfully all night after his talk with Robbie. As soon as he heard the birds crying their wake up calls he leapt out of bed and jumped straight into the pilot seat of his airship. The sporty man pedaled vigorously and piloted the zeppelin all the way to the edge of LazyTown back to the billboard.

It was far too early to be paying Robbie a visit but Sportacus lowered his rope ladder and descended all the same. He could still recall the exhaustion in Robbie's face and he wondered if the man had slept any better than he had last night. It wasn't only that, though. Robbie's unexpected anticipation for the Sportscandy Festival nagged at his thoughts as well, and something that the kids had said while laying out their grievances to Sportacus. It was almost as if Robbie was up to something…

Sportacus shook his head and jumped away from the ladder when he'd made it two thirds of the way down to drop the rest of the way onto the top of the billboard. It rattled and quaked under his heavy landing, not one of his neater maneuvers, but no one was around to see it.

As he looked down on the space behind the billboard he nearly fell, losing his balance for the shock of seeing the silo lid already thrown open. Yards and yards of thick black cables fed out from the metal tube and snaked across the platform and around to the front of the sign, trailing away into town with no end in sight. Sportacus scrambled down the supporting structure and raced to the lair's entrance, hoisting himself up and leaning his head in.

"Robbie?" he called. He waited but there was no answer. The chute was so full of wires as to be impassable. They thrummed and gave off a warm electrical smell. Turning away Sportacus paced alongside the winding black cords and followed them into town.

The thick coil split into two separate bundles as the trail forked, one way leading off towards Lazy Park and the other towards the center of town. Sportacus followed the wires into Lazy Park first, his pace quickening to a jog. When he had gone well down the path he found himself at the tree house. The wires wrapped all the way up the trunk and through the open hatch in the base of the little wooden structure. But how had they gotten up there?

As he circled the tree and puzzled over the bizarre setup Sportacus found the answer leaning against the opposite side of the trunk. A rickety metal ladder had appeared out of nowhere, certainly not one that Sportacus had ever seen before. It was makeshift and welded together from rusty orange pipes and other scraps. He looked up at the tree house with a wrinkle in his brow and back down at the wires wending away.

Sportacus doubled back to the fork in the path and followed the diverging wires. His jog broke into a run as the surrounding park gave way to houses and shops, heading into the heart of town. The Sportscandy Festival was being held in the town square. As he drew nearer he could hear other early risers talking and moving around. He leapt over walls and jumped off benches, bursting onto the scene only to skid to a halt as the shadow of the stage fell over him.

The stage had been completely built up, its foundation reinforced with additional struts and extended outward to make more floor space for the festivities. Looming up like a backdrop was the enormous metal door frame that Sportacus had seen on Robbie's workbench, now fully implemented into the set. All of the trailing wires led into this monstrous machine. And Robbie was up there with it fiddling with cords and plugs, screwing things in and prying things loose, putting on the finishing touches while the various lights and buttons blinked and flashed around him.

"Robbie!" Sportacus exclaimed. Robbie turned around with a wrench in one hand. Pixel's head popped up from behind another large machine at the sound of the man's voice.

"Hey, Sportacus," Pixel said. "You're just in time for our sound check."


	33. 4:2

"What's going on here?" Sportacus took slow steps forward, stopping just before the stairs leading up to the stage where the two inventors looked down at him.

"Just putting some finishing touches on things," Robbie said, patting the wrench in his palm. Sportacus frowned and pointed up at the overhanging archway. It was even more imposing in the light of day, what had once been a sleeping dragon down in Robbie's lair now awake and rearing up into the sky.

"This is..."

"This has been a real pain to set up," Robbie said with a shake of his head, "but it'll be worth it." Grinning he faked a cough and muttered under his breath. "If it doesn't take down the town's power grid first."

"I finally got Stephanie's sound system working again," Pixel said. He adjusted his visor on his head. "Actually, Robbie helped me fix it."

Sportacus raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah," Pixel said, sounding as surprised as Sportacus looked, "he had all sorts of useful spare parts, and he brought back all of the tools he'd been keeping. I don't think we could have gotten everything ready so quickly otherwise."

Besides the pervasive tendrils of wires that led between Robbie's lair, the tree house, and his mysterious machine, there was a whole rat's nest more of cables between the heavily embellished archway and Pixel's sound system that connected them both to a portable power source. It looked like an electrical pin cushion with things plugged into every available socket, a questionable handling of hardware but apparently good enough by both Robbie's and Pixel's standards.

"Let's put this thing to the test," Pixel said, and tapped his fingers across the control panel of his sound system, turning on the power one stage at a time. All across the overarching structure of Robbie's machine the blinking lights changed from their random flashes to a synchronized arrangement, strobing in mesmerizing patterns. With practiced motions Pixel moved the sliders all across the mixing board.

The speakers coughed and buzzed in a familiar heavy bass hum. A low pulsing percussion made its presence known as it grew in volume. The melody peeked out and washed over the town in mounting waves that soon reached a roar. It was even louder than the first time Pixel had demonstrated its attributes. It appeared the music was being amplified by Robbie's archway.

"That's amazing," Sportacus could barely hear himself say. Pixel lowered the volume to a more tolerable decibel and smiled. Robbie had plugged his ears with both hands and was slow to lower them. The gizmo kid looked sidelong at Robbie as he continued to test his setup.

"It's even better with the repeaters Robbie hooked up to it. You're sure it's not too loud for you, Robbie?"

"For one more day," Robbie said, "I'll just have to grin and bear it." He turned back around, raising his wrench to adjust something else on the elaborate machine. "If it's all the same to you, though, I won't be installing the confetti cannons."


	34. 4:3

Everyone else arrived in quick order to get the Sportscandy Festival in full swing. Trixie and Stingy carted in all of the games with a little wagon and Stingy's car. There was apple bowling and a space set aside to try one's hand at juggling with the fruit, paint to decorate apples and turn them into funny faces and more. They filled an oversized bucket with water and dumped a bushel of apples into the drink so that they floated in a colorful armada of reds, greens, and golds.

"What's that supposed to be, fruit punch?" Robbie asked, keeping a safe distance up on the stage away from the kids.

"It's bobbing for apples, of course," Stingy said.

"Why don't you give it a try, Robbie?" Trixie invited the man down with a wave. "Dunk your head in and try to fish one out."

"I'll dunk something," Robbie growled, and declined.

Stephanie and Ziggy took care of decorations between themselves. Stephanie had built an apple Eiffel tower to display while Ziggy had tried to put together a castle but had eaten the watch towers. They hung up streamers and balloons and garlands, turning the town square into party central.

Milford helped Ms Busybody to set up her food stand and the sweet smell of apples filled the air. She had gone all out baking every conceivable iteration of apple dishes; apple strudel and apple cake, apple cobbler and apple donuts, tarts and danishes and turnovers and dumplings and simple baked apples filled with molten fillings that wafted burnt sugar under every nose. There was apple cider and apple juice, apple butter and applesauce, and of course there was pie, more pie than anyone could ever eat. The pie tins stacked up high over Bessie's head as she sat in her booth, setting out a tray of caramel dipped apples and candied apples that glistened in the morning light.

"Maybe we should rename today Apple Pi Day," Pixel suggested, and no one had any objections.

"It is a lot of pie," Milford said, wiping sweat from his forehead and catching his breath after setting down another armload of pastries. "I don't know how we'll get through it all."

"Don't you remember, Uncle?" Stephanie asked. "We're having a pie eating contest!"

"That's right! We'll need a table and chairs and numbers for everyone who wants to partake. Now, who will be competing?"

"Me! I want to compete!" Stingy's hand shot up first.

"Me too," Trixie said, raising her hand. "I bet I'll eat more pies than you, Stingy."

"I'm gonna eat a whole apple tree's worth of apple pies!" Ziggy rubbed his belly and licked his lips.

"That would be at least three bushels of apples," Pixel said. Ziggy tilted his head to one side as he contemplated the estimate.

"How much is that?"

"By my calculations, over one hundred and fifty pounds."

"I don't think I weigh that much now," Ziggy said.

"You'll weigh more than that when you're done," Pixel said.

"Only eat as much are you're comfortable, Ziggy," Sportacus advised the little boy. "Apples are good for you, but apple pies have a lot of sugar."

"Does that mean you won't be competing, Sportacus?" Stephanie asked. Sportacus shook his head with a smile.

"I like my apples straight from the tree. But I'll watch you guys."

"Is that everyone?" the mayor asked.

Robbie raised his hand. "I'll do it."

The chatter stopped and everyone looked up at the skinny man on the stage. "You wish to participate, Mr. Rotten?" Milford asked.

"The pies are for _eating_ , you know," Bessie said in severe tones.

"I'm aware of that," Robbie said, his facial muscles fighting against a spasmodic fit.

"But you hate sportscandy," Ziggy pointed out.

"Just because I hate it doesn't mean I can't eat it," Robbie said. "I ate plenty of it before, didn't I?"

"Why would you want to compete?" Trixie asked. Robbie rolled his eyes, his mouth tightening against a scowl.

"I see no reason why I shouldn't put a bunch of apple picking pests in their places, unless this ridiculous contest is only for kids."

The kids looked to each other and found no protests to be had. "All right, Robbie," Trixie spoke for the group, "you're on."

"All right then," Milford said. "We'll start the contest in five minutes. Sportacus, would you help me bring up the table and chairs?"

The mayor and the hero left together. On their way out of the square Milford tripped over some of the copious electrical cables crisscrossing the ground and Sportacus saved him from falling on his face. Bessie busied herself setting out more of her apple based baked goods. The kids still looked up at Robbie. The man cast a lazy gaze around the area before settling on them once more.

"Why don't we make this more interesting while we're at it?" Robbie suggested.

"Interesting how?" Trixie asked.

"Say for example if I beat all of you," Robbie said, "you don't play outside anymore. No more sports, no more playground. No more of your pathetic pranks either. All of you stay in your rooms and let LazyTown be lazy once and for all."

"Stay inside doing nothing?" Ziggy boggled. "But that's not fair!"

"As if he could beat all of us," Trixie said. "Still, what's in it for us if we win?"

Robbie gave them a small, peculiar smile. "I'll leave LazyTown forever."

A collective disturbance stirred the children. "For how long did you say?" Stingy asked. Robbie snorted and repeated himself in the same low voice as before.

"Forever."


	35. 4:4

A long card table was set up on the stage. The kids and Robbie took their seats in the folding chairs provided, facing out towards the town square. They were each given a racing number to wear that doubled as a bib tied around their necks. Stacks and stacks of pies weighed down the table in rows like mountain ranges.

Bessie kept her place at her food stand while Sportacus sat on one of the benches. The kids waved at Sportacus and the mustached man smiled and waved back at them. He tried to catch Robbie's eye but Robbie didn't even look at him, his attention focused on all of the pies surrounding him with a mildly disconcerted expression on his face.

The Mayor stood behind the podium at the forefront of the stage to officiate the goings on. He tapped his microphone once and the amplified speakers on Pixel's sound system squealed feedback that sent birds into flight miles away.

"Okay, everyone," Milford's voice boomed out in surround sound, "whoever eats the most pies wins." Seeing that they understood he began the countdown. "On your marks. Get set—"

"Go!" Trixie shouted.

Ziggy sucked in a deep breath before diving face first into his pie. Stingy leaned away from the other boy to avoid sprayed pieces of pie crust and cut into his own with fork and knife, making sure each piece was neatly served. Trixie used her bare hands and shoveled the pie into her mouth. Stephanie used a large serving spoon and Pixel ran some quick numbers under his breath, reasoning out how best to pace himself with his fork in hand.

Robbie watched the kids tackling their plates with a wrinkled nose and his lips twisted in distaste. With his fork he broke apart the latticework crust covering his dessert and pushed around the gooey apples baked inside, his mouth pursing tighter on reflex. His shoulders rising and falling with an inward sigh he skewered a chunk and brought it to his mouth, parting his teeth while every other muscle in his face fought to keep them closed.

They all hit their stride soon after that. Silverware scraped the bottoms of dishes and lips smacked around juicy apple slices. The first round of pies were eaten and the next batch immediately set upon. As they plowed through the pastries the emptied tins started stacking up, flanking each contestant on either side as a testament to their efforts.

Pixel was the first to drop out. "I think I've hit max capacity," he groaned, pushing away half an uneaten pie.

"Come sit down here," Sportacus beckoned the boy from his seat in the audience. The computer kid left the stage with his hands over his belly.

"Sorry guys," he said to his friends.

"Don't sweat it, Pixel," Trixie said, "we're not beat yet."

Stephanie let her fork fall onto her plate one pie later. "I don't think I can eat anymore, or I'll turn _into_ an apple pie." She staggered off the stage.

"Stop, Ziggy," Stingy protested, "that's _my_ pie you're eating!"

"Sorry, Stingy," Ziggy said, his cheeks bulging. "Here, you can have mine."

"Eugh, it's already missing a piece!"

"Stop complaining and eat, Stingy," Trixie urged the boy, but Stingy ripped off his bib and threw it on the table.

"Now there's other people's pie all over my silverware! I'm not going to eat something that's been in somebody else's mouth!" He shoved back his chair and stomped down the stairs to sit on one of the benches with the other kids out of the running.

Three contestants remained at the table. Pixel, Stephanie, and Stingy kept up a cheer for their friends. Ziggy was still digging into his pies with gusto. Robbie had maintained a steady pace from the beginning and showed no signs of flagging yet. Trixie lagged behind them in the number of pies tins she had emptied around her but jammed fork after fork of the stuff into her mouth.

A strange gurgling noise carried over the ambient music playing on the hi-tech sound system and they all paused to listen. Trixie leaned over the table and hugged her middle. Her belly grumbled and protested so loudly that it could be heard over the speakers!

"Trixie, come down," Stephanie called to her.

"No," Trixie said, "we can't lose."

"There's no point in getting sick," Stephanie said.

"Too late," Trixie mumbled. She tried to take some deep breaths and pushed back slowly form the table. She cast a sour look at Robbie who returned her gaze with his fork still moving, never breaking stride. "Ziggy, it's up to you."


	36. 4:5

Trixie trudged off the stage. Once she was seated with a cup of water her stomach stopped gurgling so loudly and she was able to join in cheering with the other kids. All eyes were on Ziggy and Robbie, tucking into the pies with no signs of stopping.

Ziggy's face was covered in syrupy apple filling and flecked with crumbs of crust. He'd lost his fork early on in the contest but had no qualms with using his hands. The boy had never looked happier. He ate with a ravenous energy as if he hadn't had a decent meal in his life.

Beside him Robbie had a markedly different style. The man skewered caramelized apples on his fork and fed them into his mouth mechanically one after the other. It was hard to say if he even tasted them or bothered to chew. Where Ziggy's messy performance broadcast his pleasure for the feast Robbie's still and steady cadence suggested nothing more than dutiful resignation. As fast as Ziggy ate Robbie continued to pace him and they were neck and neck.

"Do you think he can do it?" Stephanie asked, her eyes riveted on the spectacle. "Ziggy's only a little kid..."

"He's got a smaller stomach than Robbie," Pixel said, "but I think he's got the bigger appetite."

Stingy snorted. "No kidding. His eyes are even bigger than Robbie's stomach."

Signs began to show that the contestants were pushing their limits. Ziggy's face was pink and sweaty underneath his fruity face mask. Robbie had to loosen his belt. They had eaten so much that the great stacks of pies that had before been so foreboding were now decimated to a more manageable heap. It still didn't seem possible that they could eat them all.

Robbie finished another pie and stacked the emptied tin with the others. As he slid the next one onto his plate he glanced towards Ziggy. The man watched him for a moment.

"For such a little boy you sure can put it away," Robbie commented. Ziggy turned his head enough to look at Robbie as he crammed more pie into his mouth.

"I love pie," Ziggy said, spraying some crumbs as he struggled to speak through the food. He swallowed and giggled. Robbie nodded.

"All these apple pies made out of apples," Robbie said. "I'm surprised we haven't found any worms yet."

Ziggy paused with a handful of pie halfway to his mouth. "Huh?"

"Oh, you know," Robbie said, "now and then there's bound to be a worm inside an apple, and with so many apples used to make all these pies we're certain to find at least a few. In fact, we should have seen some of them by now. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Ziggy asked.

"Unless," Robbie said, "you didn't look closely enough before you put it in your mouth, and then..." He swallowed grandly and Ziggy stared as the man's Adam's apple bobbed on his throat.

"You mean," Ziggy said, his face paling under all the sticky smears, "I might have..."

"Gulped them like a fish," Robbie said. He grinned. "Or maybe a bird."

Ziggy lowered his hand, letting the pie fall out. His complexion took a turn towards the shade of a green apple. Robbie leaned a little closer, looking at the boy's plate.

"Say, I think I see one now."

With a wail Ziggy jerked back from the pie in front of him. He shoved at the table so hard that his chair tipped back on its rear legs, then over. The chair toppled and crashed onto the stage with Ziggy in it.

"Ziggy!" Stephanie stood up from her seat to see the little boy better. "Are you okay?"

"No more! No more!" Ziggy crawled on hands and knees out from under the table, scrambling to get away as fast as he could. Sportacus strode forward just as Ziggy reached the edge the stage and caught the boy before he tumbled head over heels to the ground.

"Easy, Ziggy," Sportacus said. He hefted the boy in his arms— the child was heavier than normal from all the pies— and set him on his feet. "Next time make sure you use the stairs."

"It appears that Ziggy has forfeited," Milford announced over his microphone. "That makes Robbie Rotten the winner!"


	37. 4:6

Mutters of confusion arose from the crowd of kids. Robbie got up out of his seat and clasped his hands together, giving them a couple small shakes to mark his victory.

"No need for applause, to win is a reward in itself." Robbie strolled around the table and untied the bib from his neck. He dabbed away a few stray crumbs from the corners of his mouth, obscuring his smirk. "I'm sure all you kiddies will be going home shortly anyway."

"What?" Stingy squawked.

"We had a deal, didn't we?" Robbie leaned one arm on the podium. "After all, a bet's a bet, and I won fair and square."

"What bet?" Sportacus looked between the children and Robbie with a wrinkle in his brow. The kids avoided his gaze.

"You didn't win, you cheated!" Trixie shouted. Robbie placed a hand on his chest at the accusation.

"What would ever give you that idea?"

"You said something to Ziggy," Trixie said, "I saw you talking to him!"

"Am I not allowed to talk to Zippy?"

"Ziggy!" Stingy turned to the smaller boy. "What did Robbie say to you?"

"He said… the pies..." Ziggy's stomach lurched with an audible gurgle far more ominous than the rumblings that Trixie's belly had produced before. He covered his mouth and turned away. Stephanie rubbed the boy's shoulders. His words came stifled through his hand. "Like… a fish..."

"What does that mean?" Stephanie asked.

"Is it a riddle?" Stingy asked.

"Guys," Sportacus said, raising his voice above the growing clamor, "what's going on here?"

"Robbie's up to his tricks again!" Trixie glared daggers at the smug man on the stage.

"He said if we all lost, we couldn't play outside anymore," Ziggy whimpered.

"He _what?_ " Sportacus shot an incredulous look at Robbie.

"They all agreed with the terms," Robbie said with a shrug. "There's no call to be sore losers about it."

"No way, Robbie," Trixie said, "all bets are off."

"Oh?" Robbie arched an eyebrow at the pigtailed girl. "And if I had lost, would you still be saying that?"

"You did lose," Trixie said. "Cheaters never win."

"Is that what you all really think?" Robbie asked. He looked from one kid's sullen and sour face to the next, turning last to Sportacus. "If I lose everyone else wins, is that right?"

The hero's exasperation was plain on his face. "This isn't about winning or losing, Robbie. You can't use the festival games as some kind of..."

"Scheme?" Robbie supplied the word. Sportacus crossed his arms and frowned at him.

"That's not what I was going to say."

"Sounds accurate to me," Pixel said under his breath.

"You can say that again," Stingy muttered.

"Say what?" Robbie put his hand to his ear. "Why don't you speak up so everyone can hear you, Pretzel?"

"The name is Pixel," Pixel said at full volume, "and I was just agreeing with you, Robbie. You can't do anything around here without it being part of one of your schemes."

"And how can I help it," Robbie asked, "when you all make it so easy?"

"Perhaps we should move on to the next activity," Milford mumbled into the microphone.

"I've got an activity," Trixie said. She ran over to Bessie's food stand and snatched a plate of apple cobbler off of the counter. Turning to face the stage again she cocked her arm back, holding the dish aloft. "Here, Robbie, catch!"

"Trixie!" everyone gasped and shouted, but she was too fast for anyone to stop her. She hurled the cobbler up at the stage where Robbie stood.


	38. 4:7

The cobbler exploded on Robbie’s face in a cloud of caramelized apple shrapnel. He staggered back, his arms pinwheeling to keep his balance. As he wiped the gobs of gooey filling and flecks of pastry away from his eyes and mouth Trixie belted out whole hearted laughter.

Robbie bared his teeth in a growl. “That’s _it_ ,” he said. Turning to the card table he grabbed one of the pies that still remained. “Catch this, you big-mouthed brat!” With a snarl he pitched the pie at Trixie.

Trixie ducked the baked projectile. It brushed her pigtails as it continued along its trajectory at full speed. There was nothing anyone could do but watch as the pie careened into Bessie’s food stand and collided with the woman.

Bessie spluttered through the pastry. She scraped it out of her hair and off her face in frantic swipes, revealing her bright red cheeks and flashing eyes.

“ _Robbie. ROTTEN!_ ” Bessie bellowed.

Nobody moved, all wide eyed as they looked between Bessie and Robbie. Up on the stage Robbie was equally paralyzed, his face pale, lips parted in dumb surprise. He raised his hands up and shook them.

“I didn’t—”

Letting out a war cry Bessie grabbed the closest thing at hand, a hefty plate loaded with apple turnovers, and chucked the whole thing at the stage. Robbie shielded himself with his arms and dove behind the table. The crystal in the center of Sportacus’ uniform lit up with an urgent flash. The piping hot pastries rained down, bursting open to splatter bits of apple everywhere. The plate, flipping end over end, bounced off Milford’s chest.

“Oof!” Milford’s guttural exclamation made the microphone cut out.

“Oh, no!” Bessie gasped, clapping her hands to her face. Her eyes blazed at Robbie. “Now look what you made me do!”

The mayor tottered back from the podium until his legs hit the edge of the card table. With a lurch the portly man crashed down and flipped the entire table over in the process, launching every last pie into the audience.

“Take cover!” Stephanie shouted.

Everyone and everything was pelted with pies. Robbie peeked out from behind the overturned table in time to see Trixie lob a baked apple at him and he scarcely managed to dodge it. He returned fire, flinging strudel and muffins in every direction.

“Trixie wait!” Stephanie grabbed Trixie’s arm but the pigtailed girl just reached for the nearest tart or turnover with her other hand.

“Enough’s enough, Pinkie,” Trixie said, “Robbie’s bitten off more than he can chew this time!” She threw the food but Stephanie yanked her around and fouled up her aim at the last moment. The sticky slice beaned Stingy on the shoulder.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?” Stingy let out a frustrated yelp. He scooped a handful of apple pie filling and flung it back at Trixie, spraying both her and Stephanie. “How do you like it?” Trixie answered him by throwing another tart at him, this time on purpose.

“You want to throw my food? Fine!” Bessie yelled. She chucked cakes and puddings and all manner of apple desserts out from her food stand.

“No more pie,” Ziggy moaned.

“It’s okay, Ziggy, just get under the bench,” Pixel said, pushing the smaller boy down out of harm’s way and scrambling in after him.

“Mayor, are you all right?” Sportacus jumped the steps up the stage and knelt over the man. Slinging one arm over his shoulder he pulled Milford to his feet. The mayor wobbled and touched at his chest with his free hand.

“Oh. Oh my.” Milford raised his hand from his chest to the back of his head, looking around groggily. “This is not part of the scheduled events.”

“It’s all right, Mayor. Let’s get you down from here.”

Sportacus turned towards the stairs just in time for a glob of apple crisp a la mode to splatter across his face. He sputtered and spat out the mixture of sugary fruit and ice cream. As he tried to take another step he wavered on the spot. His crystal, flashing a rapid white pulse up to now, darkened to a deep red glare. His eyes rolled back into his head and he let go of the mayor before crumpling to the floor. The mayor toppled back over and sprawled out beside him.

Robbie poked his head out from behind the overturned table again, a handful of goopy apples at the ready. His furtive peek roved across the mob of squalling kids and raging woman before resting on the two men lying on the stage. His eyes widened and he stumbled out into the open, blundering through the next wave of flying foodstuffs.

“Hold on! Hold it!” Robbie shouted.

With the villain out from behind his cover it was open season. Trixie and Stingy stopped throwing food at each other and united once more to direct their attention at the stage.

“Get him!” Stingy pointed at the man.

“Fire at will!” Trixie declared.

“Get it while it’s hot!” Bessie shoved out trays of new ammunition.

The pastries came flying thick and fast. Robbie covered his face with his arms but held his ground and took the brunt of the assault. He was pummeled by candied apples, bespattered by sluices of cider, and caked all over with sticky crumble and crisp. When the volley finally subsided Robbie lowered his arms and raised his own shout.

“WILL YOU LISTEN?”

The kids held their fire, fistfuls of dumpling and cake held at the ready. Robbie pointed down at his feet where Sportacus and the mayor lay indisposed. Milford had managed to roll over onto his stomach and was in the process of pushing himself up. Sportacus did not move.

“Uncle, are you okay?” Stephanie cried.

“Yes, I’m all right,” Milford said. He slipped around as he got to his feet, the floor slippery with apple pulp and sugary sauces.

“What’s wrong with Sportacus?” Ziggy asked, coming out from underneath his bench.

“Robbie Rotten!” they all yelled.

Robbie ground his teeth together and rolled his eyes. He stomped off the stage. The children backed away from him but did not take their eyes off of him. Stalking across the town square he made a beeline for the bucket set up to play bobbing for apples. Robbie sloshed water over the side of the tub as he pulled out the biggest apple he could find.

Everyone watched as Robbie marched back up the stairs of the stage. He knelt down beside Sportacus and propped the man’s head up with one hand. With the other he wedged the apple into Sportacus’ mouth enough for his teeth to puncture the fruit. Sportacus chewed automatically.

The red light ebbed away from Sportacus’ crystal and he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Robbie. When their eyes met Robbie’s face relaxed, but only for a moment. He clenched his jaw again and scrubbed Sportacus’ face briskly with one of the racing bibs strewn about the stage. Sportacus sat up and leaned away from the aggressive rubdown, fending it off with one hand.

“Sportacus, are you okay?” Stephanie called to him.

“I think so,” Sportacus said. He jumped to his feet. Robbie was slower to rise up beside him. He worked his mouth a bit and smoothed his mustache across his face. “What happened?”

“Robbie ruined the party again,” Stingy said. “What else is new?”

“That’s enough,” Sportacus said.

They all fell silent.

 


	39. 4:8

Sportacus stared out at the town. His mustache twitched as he opened his mouth to speak several times, but each time he closed it again. He shook his head and turned to the mayor.

"Come," Sportacus said, taking Milford's arm. "You should sit down."

"Ah, yes," Milford said, and fumbled a bit as Sportacus guided him down the steps with unexpected swiftness. He still looked dizzy, or maybe just confused to have Sportacus directing him in this way. "Thank you, Sportacus."

Sportacus looked at each child separately. "All of you sit down."

They didn't argue. The kids climbed up onto the benches. Bessie cleared her throat but said nothing. The townspeople watched their hero, waiting for what he would do next.

Everyone had bits of desserts in their hair and on their clothes. The benches were sticky and covered in crumbs. The decorations were down, balloons deflated, streamers scattered and trampled, and apple sculptures toppled. The stage had been hit especially hard and everything was slimy with syrup and mushed apple filling. Stephanie's sound system, for all of the time and effort that Pixel had put into it, had not been able to withstand splashes of apple juice and other sticky substances. Nobody had paid much attention to the music during the pie eating contest or in the heat of the food fight but now its absence was sharp.

Sportacus stood with his arms crossed tight over his chest as he surveyed the scene. He closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore."

"Sportacus?" Ziggy asked in a small voice. "What do you mean?"

"I can't make you guys get along," Sportacus said. "But you can't keep acting like this." He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips. "Robbie did not ruin this festival by himself. You need to be accountable to your own actions."

"But he cheated!" Trixie blurted. "And he threw a pie at Bessie."

"After you threw one at him," Sportacus said, giving the girl a pointed look that made her lower her gaze. "There's no excuse, this is no way to behave. You can't fight with Robbie every time you don't like something he does. Your actions have consequences. When you dump a bunch of apples into Robbie's home as a joke, someone has to make up for the lost time and supply. When you change Robbie's billboard without permission, someone has to clean it up. When you decide to throw things at Robbie because you don't want him to win," he said, sweeping out his arm in demonstration, "this happens."

"You always stand up for him," Trixie whispered, glaring at the ground. She rubbed furiously at one eye. Her voice cracked as she spat out, "Why do you always have to choose him over us?"

"I'm not choosing anyone, Trixie," Sportacus said. "I care about all of you. I always try to stand up for all of you, whether you're right or wrong. In some ways all of you are right… but you're all wrong, too."

"So you won't choose," Stingy said. "Robbie, or us?"

Sportacus sighed. "I can't do that. No."

"Sounds like a choice to me," Trixie said, rubbing both eyes. Sportacus looked around at the other children but could only find similarly dejected faces. His stern countenance faltered, brow starting to stitch together.

"Guys..."

"It seems to me that we should call an early close to today's festival," Milford said. The children murmured with disappointment but did not try to fight the decision. There was a distinct lack of festive spirit left in the town as a whole.

Up on the stage Robbie tapped the microphone, making the speakers thump with a heavy _thunk thunk_. The surprising sound broke whatever spell had bound up the kids and Sportacus together. Robbie stood behind the podium and gripped its edges as though it were a shield between himself and the rest of LazyTown's citizens.

"If I could have everyone's attention, please," Robbie said. "There's something I have to say."

Trixie raised her head to look at the man in the striped suit. Her eyes were puffy and red, complementing the trembling pout on her face. The rest of the kids looked up as well. Sportacus watched Robbie as the man gazed around at his audience. He would not meet Sportacus' eyes.

"You all blame me for what's happened here. You think I'm a liar and a cheater, a schemer. Only Sportacus gives me the benefit of the doubt."

He paused, licking his lips. Robbie leaned closer to the microphone so even when he spoke in a low voice it carried to everyone as though he were saying it right in their ears.

"Sportacus is wrong."


	40. 4:9

Nobody moved in the wake of Robbie's declaration. Sportacus stood there while the world turned underneath him. He was gripped by vertigo, a dreadful lurch that made his vision hazy around the edges. He could only focus on Robbie, stare at the man clinging to the podium as though he too felt the town spinning away from beneath his feet.

"You all know who I am," Robbie said. His face twitched with the stirrings of a grin that couldn't stick. "When I didn't know who I was, you still knew me. No matter how you tried, how I tried to change that, I could not be anyone else, because you all knew the truth. You won't let me be anyone else." Robbie's voice sank lower, rolling out of the speakers like a rumble of thunder. "I'm Robbie Rotten."

He took a breath that growled in and out of his chest. His grip on the podium tightened, knuckles bulging, fingers clamped like claws.

"You never expected anything less from me, so I gave you everything you asked for. I tricked you, stole from you, and cheated you. Now, ruining this festival was not really part of my plan, but I'll take credit for it. I'm Rotten, just like you wanted. There's just one thing, though..."

The tic in the corner of his mouth grew more pronounced, tugging his lips into a grimace.

"This isn't what I wanted." The words rasped out of his constricting throat. "I didn't want to go back to being who I am, but you leave me no choice. You remind me every day who I am. Your own hero," Robbie said, his eyes staring off into his thoughts, never once looking at the man in question, "won't let me forget what happened, and what I've done… done to him."

The villain's eyes refocused and he smiled, a stretch of the lips that was wholly without warmth. The look on his face left an icy pit in Sportacus' center. When Robbie offered a small laugh it sent a sickening chill throughout his body.

"Well, now, have I got a surprise for all of you."

Robbie straightened up and stepped back from the podium. He opened his arms to gesture at the stage behind him. His hands shook as he held the theatrical pose.

"Behold. The Forget-Me-Naught 6000."

The enormous metal archway drew everyone's eyes and it was as if they saw it for the first time. It had stood there throughout the festival, lights blinking in tandem with the sound system as though it were nothing more than an overwrought decorative piece. The lights still worked now but in random flashes and flickers. It had taken many hits from thrown apples and pastries and all of the electrical wiring around it appeared to be fizzling in puddles of sticky syrup.

"All of this started with a little invention I called the Memory Sucker 3000," Robbie said. "It could make someone forget everything— but only that one person. I see now that was a major design flaw."

"Robbie," Sportacus could not find the breath to say above a murmur. Nobody else could speak either, mesmerized by the villain's demonstration. Robbie pulled something small out from under the podium. It was a simple metal box with one big red button in the center.

"You've all made it perfectly clear that I'm not welcome here as I am." The controller trembled in his grasp. He twitched his thumb along the rim of the button, caressing its edge. "That's fine with me. I'd rather forget it all again. The only difference is this time all of you will, too."

The children shifted in their seats with a smattering of gasps and questioning murmurs. "What's he mean? What's happening?"

"You're safe where you are," Robbie said. "As long as you stay down there, I alone stand in the focal point of my machine. Once I activate it, all of you will forget everything that's happened since I built that first accursed invention. To be more specific, you'll forget me." He giggled in an unnaturally high pitch. "Of course I haven't been able to test this thing, so who knows just how much I'll be forgotten. I pulled out all the stops. It might remove me from all existence. But hey, who's complaining? I could use the peace and quiet."

The ice inside Sportacus clenched and crushed, splintering into sharp shards. He took a step forward, breaking out of his frozen stupor. "Robbie," he said.

Robbie glanced down at Sportacus. His eyes were heavy with shadows, set deep in his pale and gaunt face. His hand stopped shaking and he held the controller steady.

He pushed the button.

" _Robbie!_ "

The monstrous machine shuddered and groaned with electricity coursing through. The endless yards of cables and wires sputtered and sparked, sending up dazzling showers. It was a dragon provoked and breathing fire.

All of the random blinking lights across the face of the frame shifted through the spectrum of colors until they were all the same bright white glare. A low boom sounded farther away, coming from Lazy Park. It repeated itself, a regular pulse of energy feeding all the way through town up into the Forget-Me-Naught 6000. With each boom the lights shined brighter. Everyone sitting down on the benches covered their eyes from the burning light, their cries drowned out by the droning and rising roar of the surging machine.

Several bulbs gave out with a series of _pops_ , bursting and hissing. The portable generator sitting on the stage smoked and whined, struggling to keep pace with the output demanded of it. A hair raising crackle of static buildup buzzed the air. Robbie looked up at the archway with his face drawn tight and pinched, an expression that suggested this was not part of the machine's predicted performance. He dropped the controller but did not run. Even as parts of the machine short-circuited and went haywire the core programming persisted, building up to execute its terrible command.

Sportacus rushed forward, vaulting over benches to get to the stairs. He dashed up in desperate bounds and lunged across the stage, arms outstretched, reaching for Robbie as the machine activated.


	41. 4:10

Sportacus flew through the air with sparks and smoke closing in around him. It stung his eyes so that Robbie was a lone smudge in the middle of the stage, washed out by the blinding light as the Forget-Me-Naught 6000 shook the world apart. He threw himself at Robbie—

But no one was there.

The festival was over. It was time to go.

Sportacus waved good bye to Bessie and Mayor Meanswell as they carted away what was left of the pies and other pastries from the festival. The kids had things under control sweeping up the garbage on the ground and putting away the games and decorations. That left LazyTown's hero to pick up the yards and yards of wires all over the stage. Pixel might have overdone it with the electronics, but it was certainly a celebration no one would forget.

He spooled the long black cables over his shoulder like a lasso. The coiled cords quickly grew heavy on his arm but once he'd cleared the stage of them he found they did not end there, rather continuing down the steps and all over the town square. Not one to leave a job half done Sportacus followed the electrical trail, winding it up as he went.

The wires took him all the way through Lazy Park where he had to untangle them from around the tree house. Someone had left a metal ladder nearby so it was easy enough to go up and collect them. Inside the little club house was a strange machine that took up almost all of the space inside. Some kind of relay station maybe for all of the electrical wires to pass through on their way to the stage where Apple Pi Day had taken place. Pixel must have left it in here and would be back for it, Sportacus reasoned. Once he'd gathered up all the cables he climbed back down and resumed picking up the trail.

All of the loops of wire weighed heavy across his shoulders and in his arms but still they went on, all the way back through town and towards the outskirts of the residential zone. Sportacus paused under the shade of the big billboard that stood out here and looked at the picture on it. Some sort of mean creature glared out at him, a dragon crossed with a cow. Was it some kind of warning to stay away? But the wires couldn't go on for much longer.

Sportacus followed the wires around the back of the sign and found a metal staircase. Hidden here in the back was a miniature silo, apparently the source of all of the wires. It seemed a strange method for storing wires but Sportacus shrugged. He hefted his heaping armload up and into the metal tube, hauling in yard after yard. Swinging the lid shut Sportacus dusted his hands and stretched the sore muscles in his arms.

He looked around himself once more. It was quiet this far out of town. In a way it reminded him of his airship, somewhere remote and private. He ought to be getting back to his airship, in fact… But it wasn't that far away, was it? Sportacus raised his head to find the bright blue dirigible floating directly overhead. Odd, he couldn't imagine why he would have parked it here and not closer to the festival, yet here it was.

There wasn't really any reason to hurry up there. Sportacus climbed the little ladder attached to the side of the silo and sat down on its roof. He kicked his legs, letting his heels drum a soft percussion against the metal. Eventually his fidgeting faded away and he stared at the back of the billboard, resting his eyes. The outline of a door stood out from all the supporting struts. A strange thing, to have a door leading to nowhere.

Something about this place was… comforting. He would do this on his airship sometimes, a rare moment where he wanted nothing more than to sit, and be still, and silent.

Maybe he would come back here tomorrow.

* * *

 Sportacus hurled himself headlong through the thickening smoke and the stinging shower of sparks as the Forget-Me-Naught 6000 rent the air with a mechanical roar, fast reaching its crescendo. He could barely see Robbie, a wavering outline in the confusion of imploding machinery and deafening noise. With hands outstretched he made contact with the other man for one instant—

Robbie fell off the stage. He sat up, looking to see who had pushed him.

But no one was there.

The festival was over before it had even begun. It had only taken one food fight for everyone to give up and go home. Now that he'd made sure LazyTown would stay lazy, Robbie could rest in peace.

The townspeople were too lazy to even clean up after themselves. Robbie stepped over discarded pastries and kicked a few apples. He nearly tripped over all of the cords thronging across the ground like a nest of snakes. They led him all the way home to the edge of town, up behind the billboard. He was too lazy to clean up properly either. It took a lot of wriggling to squeeze past all the wires and down the chute to his lair.

Robbie stood in the middle of his cavernous home for a moment. The place could really use some picking up, but he didn't have the energy to do it. All these wires going everywhere, what had even been the point? Well, it didn't matter anymore. He stepped over boxes and bits of metal machines until he reached the ramp up to the control center. Robbie pulled down his periscope and took another look at the town.

Only one person had remained outdoors. It was the girl with the pink hair, walking along with her arms crossed and her head down. Everything in her body language told how bored she was, and for good reason. None of the other kids would come out to play when they had all the junk food and games they needed inside their houses. It made Robbie chuckle. As he turned away from the periscope, though, the laughter didn't last for very long. He was as alone down here as that pink girl was up there.

He walked back down the catwalk, losing vigor with every step. The world above him was quiet, offering no incentive for him to go back out when nobody would notice if he was up there anyway. With nothing else to do he headed for his recliner, a big fuzzy orange spot of color in his otherwise cold and dark lair. Once he sat down, there was no telling how long he might stay down here. Hours, days, maybe even weeks.

There was something else beside the chair. Robbie stood over the little end table, his nose twitching. A bunch of sunflowers lay on top of it. By all appearances they had been there for some time, the petals mostly dried up and the stalks withered, but their color was still vivid. And they still made him sneeze.

He sniffed and rubbed his nose. Flowers were such an annoying irritant… even so, sunflowers were his favorite. Just looking at them made something inside him relax, not in a lazy way, but rather more like a sense of well being. Their cheerful nature touched everything around them and made it all just seem more… happy.

It might not be a bad idea to go outside and get some more.

* * *

 Sportacus surged forth at full speed, his momentum carrying him like a missile cutting through the clouds of smoke. He couldn't breathe the acrid fumes of burning electronics, could no longer see Robbie for the all consuming light blazing across of the Forget-Me-Naught 6000. Its overworked mechanisms churned so hard and fast that the deafening roar had crystallized into a waspish hum, like flash photography preparing to go off for one final frame.

He crashed into Robbie, the shock of his physical presence knocking them both off their feet and sending them sprawling to the floor where—

No one was there.

 

_Don't come to LazyTown_

_You won't have a reason to stay_

_You'll meet no one with a rotten plan_

_And no one coming to save the day_

_Go on, go, forget LazyTown_

_It's the end of another long day_

_Things are not the same here in LazyTown_

_Adventure's just a lost memory…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I meant to finish this story before new year, but circumstances are such that I won't be able to fulfill that. The story will continue, and conclude, in January... Thanks for sticking around.


	42. 4:11

Sportacus slammed into Robbie with his head down, tackling him around the middle and throwing them both off their feet. They skidded across the stage and smashed into the generator. The Forget-Me-Naught 6000 crackled and snapped, every last light fixture bursting in a synchronized explosion.

The power banks crumpled under the impact and combusted. Valves and prongs shot off of the arch's framework from high pressure spouts of steam. Wires snapped and crackled. The grinding machine trembled and swayed on the stage, malfunctioning systems shaking it down to every circuit. It self-destructed, breaking apart in fits and seizures, raining down chunks of metal on the stage in a fiery hailstorm.

The obscene archway was no more. All that remained were heaps of rubble, scorched metal and fragments of glass, broken hardware sputtering out fast fading traces of electricity, all of it shrouded in foul smelling smoke weighed down by the ensuing silence. It was slow to dissipate, invading everyone's lungs so that they gasped and wheezed, waving away the choking atmosphere in a bid to breathe.

"Is everyone all right?" the mayor coughed out. Nobody knew for sure. They had to wait for the smoke to clear before they could see.

Sportacus and Robbie lay buried within the tangled rat's nest of wires on the edge of the stage under the broken parts of the generator. They could only be seen for the bright blue of Sportacus' uniform showing through the wreckage and a few streaks of purple pinstripes from Robbie's pant leg.

Everyone ran up to the stage at once and started pulling away the bits of debris. "Sportacus! Sportacus, are you okay?" the kids cried and shouted.

The stage creaked and buckled under everyone's collective weight and Milford ushered all of children back down the steps before it should collapse under their feet. Bessie put a hand up to her forehead, swaying from the noxious fumes and the sight of the blue suited man lying prone on the floor, and leaned against Milford for support.

Sportacus shifted. Frayed wires and chips of metal rolled off his shoulders as he raised his head. He squinted at Robbie still pinned beneath him. Where he had thrown his arms haphazardly around the other man before now he tightened his grip. He lowered his head back down and squeezed, every muscle tensing in his body.

Robbie twitched and groaned. He groped at Sportacus' arms with battered and jittery hands. Sportacus raised his head again to look at him. Through the smudges of accumulated smoke and singed skin Robbie's face was still pale and harrowing, balanced precariously between dread and panic.

"Do… you know me?" Robbie asked, his voice hoarse.

Sportacus stared into his eyes. He sat up, letting more stray bits of the broken archway ramble off his back and sides. He unwrapped his arms from around Robbie and planted his hands heavily on his shoulders.

"Robbie," Sportacus said. Robbie's brow furrowed deeply into trenches and his mouth contorted in a grimace. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"No..."

Robbie's shoulders hunched and tensed under Sportacus' hands. A tremor ran through him, making the villain's whole frame shake. He ducked his head down and drew in breath sharply. It scraped out of him through a choked sob.

"It didn't work...!"

Sportacus clenched his jaw. He dug his fingers into Robbie's shoulders so hard it made the man wince and gasp, screwing his eyes shut all the more. He shook Robbie with a sudden and furious bout of energy.

"Are you out of your mind!?"

The children drew back further behind the mayor, quailing at Sportacus' outburst. The gleam in his eyes was unlike any look he'd ever favored the townspeople with before, something maddened and frightful. He shouted at Robbie as he shook the man like a rag doll, his agitation only increasing with every exclamation.

"This is what you've been working on all this time? You can't just decide to do something like this, you can't make everyone forget you!" His voice cracked, fracturing on the cusp of a scream. "You can't make _me_ forget you!" He held Robbie still and the man's head lolled back on one shoulder. He got his vocal cords under control and intoned in a low, fierce voice, "I won't let you."

Robbie squinted his eyes open and a hot welling of moisture sprung down one cheek, his face flushed red and taut with the threat of an all out eruption. He gripped Sportacus by the wrists but was not strong enough to wrench himself free. Even when Robbie dug his nails into Sportacus' skin the mustached man held firm, surrendering only a flinch. Robbie's face was a hodgepodge of tics and twitches, mouth stretching and snapping, his brow trembling on the verge of collapse and mounting back together in a hateful glare.

"I wish you would!" Robbie screamed back in his face. "I can't go one day here without getting dirty looks just for walking down the street! I can't have anything to do with you," he seethed, "without being resented for it! You can't make anyone happy if you keep me around when everyone hates me, so _what am I supposed to do?_ It would be better for everyone if I was gone from LazyTown, FOREVER."

"That isn't true," Sportacus said. The energy behind his words was exhausted. Sportacus loosened his grip on Robbie, his hands resting trembling on his shoulders. He held him instead with his gaze. It was a simple look, all hardness crumbled away in the face of open hurt. "It wouldn't be better for you… or me."

Robbie pried his nails out from Sportacus' arms and lowered his badly shaking hands. He left a score of fresh red crescents across the hero's wrists but Sportacus did not react to their sting. Both men appeared to have lost steam after venting at full volume and sat facing each other stunned by their shared ordeal.

"Robbie," Sportacus said, "I wouldn't be happy without you here. Don't you know that you're my best friend?"

The color rose deeper in Robbie's face. He twitched his head to the side and rubbed a finger into the damp crease of one eye. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

Sportacus laughed, a sadly strained chuckle lodged in his throat. "No, Robbie." He pulled Robbie into a brisk hug. " _Thank you_."

Robbie went rigid in the man's arms at first. Only after a shaky sigh did the stiffness ease out of his spine. He raised his arms and returned the embrace.

Somebody cleared their throat. The hero and the villain separated, Sportacus with a smile, Robbie with a flustered twist of the lips. They looked out from the stage at the rest of the town. The children had kept exceptionally quiet and were all eyes and ears watching them. Robbie growled out a suffering sound and buried his face in his hands.

"This is great," he muttered. "I still can't show my face around here, especially after all this."

"Hey, Robbie," Trixie called. Robbie barely raised his head enough to look at her.

"What is it now," he said, his tone flat.

"There's something I have to say." Trixie met Robbie's eyes without the usual glare she reserved for him. She glanced away for a moment, seeking reassurance from her friends before meeting his gaze once more. "Robbie, I'm… I'm sorry. Really, really sorry."

Robbie's expression remained deadpan. "No you're not," he said. Sportacus put a hand on his shoulder and he glanced sidelong at the athletic man, then back to the girl. "Just what are you so sorry about? You were right about me all along, weren't you?"

"I guess I was right," Trixie said, shifting her gaze between Robbie and Sportacus both, "but I was wrong, too. I shouldn't have started that food fight. And..." She lowered her eyes, her face reddening. Balling up her hands into fists she pushed through. "And I never should have painted over your billboard. It wasn't a joke and it wasn't funny. I'm just… sorry, for every mean thing I did to you."

"Me too," Stingy said, stepping up to Trixie's side. "I was afraid Sportacus wouldn't spend time with me— with any of us anymore, because of you. But Sportacus isn't just our friend. He's _your_ friend, too."

"We had no idea you felt like this, Robbie," Stephanie said. "We never wanted to make you feel bad again, not after what happened before. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to go anywhere," Ziggy said, "please don't leave!"

"None of us hate you," Pixel said. The other kids raised their voices in agreement. "And we definitely would never want to forget you."

"You don't hate me," Robbie repeated the words as though testing how they felt in his mouth. His nose twitched and he resisted the facial tic with a frown. "I can't see how you don't when you take every opportunity to bring up every trick I ever pulled on you. You couldn't possibly have _enjoyed_ all of my schemes."

"Maybe not all of them," Pixel said, "but, you know, they are always exciting."

"Yeah," Trixie said, "most of them have actually been kind of fun. Like the time you pretended to be Johnny B Bad, you put on a rockin' concert!"

"Yeah!" Ziggy said. "Or what about when you dressed up as the Birthday Fairy for my birthday? That candy-matic taffy machine was the best! Well, at least until it broke."

"Your flying mechanical dragon was amazing," Pixel said. "It put the LazyTown Medieval Festival over the top!"

"You helped me get to be the prince of LazyTown once," Stingy said, "and you even made Stephanie a princess too. Even if you were only pretending to be a fortune teller that one time, I still believe your prediction for me is going to come true, and I'll be a real king some day."

"We always love having you over for Christmas," Stephanie said.

"Yes, that's true," Milford said, nodding along with his niece. "You are a valued citizen of LazyTown, Mr. Rotten."

"I may have been an itsy-bit oversensitive with you," Bessie said. "You did eat plenty of the pies I made today before you started throwing them." She blushed a little. "And before I threw some, too. You have my apologies, Robert." The children giggled around her.

Wherever Robbie looked he was met by smiling faces. His nose wouldn't stop twitching and his mouth fidgeted around false starts to speak. He turned his head away from them all, drawing in under their focused attentions.

"It isn't so easy, trying to forgive and forget," he muttered. "It is so much harder having to remember."

Sportacus gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I think it's better to remember not only the bad times, but all of the good times too." He tilted his head, catching Robbie's eye. "Forgiveness is that much more powerful when it isn't forgotten, by anyone… what do you think?"

Gradually Robbie turned his head back around to look at Sportacus directly.

"I think..."

His nose twitched again. He glanced past Sportacus, beyond the town square where everyone stood.

"I think I smell something burning."

Heads turned. Across town, coming out of Lazy Park, a wisp of smoke uncoiled across the clear sky.

"Where's that coming from?" Pixel asked.

"The tree house," Robbie said.

"My tree house?" Stingy stared as the smoke grew thicker, taking on a darker tinge. "What's happening to it?"

"It would appear that the wiring for my machine was a bit faulty," Robbie said. "Everything here blew up with the last power surge. Something over there must have… caught fire."

Robbie started to stand up and wobbled on his legs. Sportacus rose with him and held him steady. The villain's face was calm, but pale.

"If you'd all excuse me, I need to go home now."

He stumbled down the steps with Sportacus helping him along. "Everyone stay here," Sportacus said.

"Oh dear." Milford watched the smoke rising out of Lazy Park. "We'd better call the fire department right away."

"I'm on it." Bessie already had her cell phone in her hand.

"Come on, guys," Trixie said, "let's go."

"Go where?" Stephanie asked.

"After Robbie."

"But Sportacus said to stay here," Ziggy said.

"Robbie's in trouble," Trixie said. "But Sportacus isn't the only one who can help him. I'm going."

"I'll go with you," Pixel said. They walked out of the town square together.

"Wait for me," Stingy said, running after them. Taking each other's hands Stephanie and Ziggy followed the rest.


	43. Consort

Sportacus hammered the last fence post into place around Ms Busybody's yard. He stood back and let out a satisfied sigh as a cool breeze dried the sweat on his brow. Ms Busybody cupped her face in her hands and trilled a note of adoration.

"Oh, it's wonderful!" The white picket fence was a success. With a parting nod Sportacus tossed the hammer into the toolbox and closed the lid. Tucking it under one arm he trotted down the street towards Lazy Park.

Pixel and Stephanie sat close together as they pored over the blueprints spread out across their laps. They looked up at Sportacus' approach.

"Hey guys, how's it coming?" Sportacus handed the toolbox off to Stephanie and peeked at the plans for the new tree house.

"It's great," Stephanie said. "It's going to be better than ever."

"We're putting a fire escape in this time and it'll be even easier to get up and down the tree," Pixel said, pointing out the addition in the blueprint.

The tree in question stood behind them. The old tree house was gone, too badly burned to be salvaged. Luckily the fire had been extinguished before the tree itself had sustained any serious damage. There was a large patch in the canopy missing any leaves and some of the branches were scarred by smoke, but on the whole the body was sound.

The wind picked up and made the corners of the blueprint flap and snap until the two kids held them down. Waving good bye Sportacus left them to their work, continuing on his way to the community garden.

Ziggy sang to himself while he harvested the vegetables in the garden boxes. His wagon was already half filled with potatoes, carrots, summer squash, and more. The tomato plant that he had lovingly tended was fully matured and he took extra care in pulling them off the vine to nestle in the wagon with the rest of the sportscandy.

"Wow, Ziggy, these looks delicious!" Sportacus reached into the garden plot and pulled out a vegetable, unearthing a vibrant purple turnip. He brushed the dirt away from its milky underside and cradled it in his hand.

"They taste delicious, too," Ziggy said, and demonstrated with a carrot. He bit into it with a gratifying _crunch_ and mumbled pleasurably between chews. "I can't wait to share them with the others."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Sportacus took the wagon by its handle and towed it out of the garden with Ziggy at his side.

They found the mayor sweeping up around the town square. The place still smelled strongly of sugar and apples but the steady breeze would put an end to that as Milford scrubbed the last of the pie filling residue off of the benches. Stingy oversaw all of the different bins they'd set up to sort through the various debris. There was a lot of scrap metal, wires, and glass from what had once been the Forget-Me-Naught 6000, as well as some other busted machinery and splintered wood from the stage.

"Why thank you, Ziggy," Milford said, accepting a celery stalk handed out from the wagon. Stingy pawed through the available produce and settled on a head of broccoli.

"I filled up all of the bins," Stingy said, pointing to his recycling center. "This place is officially clean."

"Great job," Sportacus said. He hefted up two of the cumbersome containers, one on each arm, and took them away while the others enjoyed their snack.

The bins were heavy and produced a muted jangling noise as Sportacus carried them through town. It was enough to make him break a sweat again but he did not stop to rest. He pushed himself a little more instead, quickening his pace as the billboard came into view.

The steel framework stood stripped like a skeleton without the display panel filling in the space. While the vinyl facing had been resistant to the fire, the paint unfortunately was not. One spark was all it took. The longstanding image of the high hill with the mansion at its peak, the dusky mountain range behind it, and the cow with its thousand yard stare in the foreground had been devoured by the flames. There had been no other choice but to take the whole thing down.

Now, with the illusory scenery removed, the platform behind the sign was in plain view through the beams. The silo was exposed, the hatch hanging wide open. A murky miasma of steam and smoke hovered over the opening, venting fumes from deep below ground. It wavered with every gust of wind but always returned to a steady haze.

Trixie circled around the silo, leaning up on her toes to try to see over the rim. Sportacus set down his recycling bins and walked up the metal stairs onto the platform. His footsteps rang off the floor and alerted Trixie to his arrival. She turned to him and grinned.

"Want to bet I can roast a marshmallow over this?"

"Don't stand too close," Sportacus warned her. She stood aside for him as he climbed up the little ladder and leaned over the chute. Hot and acrid air blasted up into his face, stinging his eyes. His throat itched as he shouted down into the hole.

"Robbie?"

Some rumblings echoed up the chute. Within moments Robbie emerged from his lair, bracing his arms on the rim of the entrance. Trixie jumped back with a shriek.

"Eyagh! What happened to your face?"

The villain wore a full gas mask that encased his entire head in black rubber. When he breathed in and out the filter canister emitted a ghastly rattle. The bug-eyed lenses flashed as Robbie pulled it off. He wiped the sweat from his temples, smoothed back his hair, and arched an eyebrow at Trixie.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." He tossed the mask to the pigtailed girl and she caught it, her face lighting up in excitement. "Here, you shouldn't go out in public without this or someone might see you."

Trixie pulled the mask on at once. Her laughter came out through the filter in a spooky cackle. "I'll scare the pink out of Stephanie's hair with this!"

"Just bring it back in one piece when you're done," Robbie said. Both he and Sportacus watched the girl as she hopped down the steps and ran back into town.

"About time you got here," Robbie said. "I thought she'd never leave."

"She wasn't a bother, was she?" Sportacus asked.

"Besides having her walking around on top of my head all day, no. But she won't stop coming even when I don't answer." He gave Sportacus a sly look. "She must have learned it from somewhere. It reminds me of someone else who wouldn't leave me alone."

Sportacus rapped his knuckles on the side of the silo. "She must be worried about you staying down there for so long. You still have to wear the gas mask?"

"If I want to keep working, yes. The air purifiers are, shall we say, overtaxed?" Robbie grumbled and drummed his fingers on the silo rim. "All my machines, my inventions, vaporized. Not to mention all the chemicals..." He coughed and leaned farther out of the tube, away from the hazy air raising up around him from the shaft. "Not that I'm complaining. It's nice to still have a home and not just some blown out hole in the ground."

"It still doesn't sound safe for you to be living down there while you're fixing it up," Sportacus said. "You know you can stay with any of the kids' families until it's ready."

Robbie's coughing subsided. His look to Sportacus was cold despite the hot fumes rising out of the lair. "I'm not ready for that," he said.

Sportacus nodded. "Or," he said, "you could stay with me."

The hard look relaxed and Robbie snorted. "You'd like that, wouldn't you."

"Wouldn't you?" Sportacus asked.

"You've asked me so many times I don't even know anymore," Robbie said. Sportacus grinned at him.

"Then I'll ask you again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the next day, until you do."

That made Robbie scoff, but he couldn't hide the grin on his own face even as he glanced away from the elf. "The fumes must be going to my head. I'd almost consider it."

"Why don't we go to Lazy Park? We could sit down and enjoy the fresh air, and you can think about it."

"Only sit? It's pretty windy out here. I would have thought you'd want to fly some kites."

Sportacus helped Robbie ease himself out of the silo. They left the hatch open to continue ventilating and walked down the steps together.

"I almost forgot," Sportacus said, "I brought the scrap parts like you wanted."

Robbie's face split in a big grin at the sight of the two recycling bins sitting in front of the billboard. He ran forward and sifted through the topmost layers of junk in an almost reverent fashion.

"Perfect, this is just what I needed." His eyes were bright, transfixed on the parts he turned over in his hands. Sportacus caught up to him and stood at his side. "And the rest of it?"

"I'll bring it over next time. But what are you doing with all of this?"

"Oh," Robbie said in a singsong voice, "just another personal project."

"Really?" Sportacus looked at the bins in a new curious light. "What does it do?"

"Nothing yet." He pulled his gaze away from the parts to look back at Sportacus. He winked. "I'm going to need a few more things."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long ride, but we made it. Thank you to everyone who has been reading along, it means so much to me to have had the company. I hope you had fun!


End file.
